Fate - Refraction
by Tyrnek
Summary: 5th HGW, retold (again). Featuring a certain Tohsaka as Caster along with two other replacements. Almost complete divergence from any of the routes. Remember: things aren't always what they seem. Currently undergoing a complete rewrite.
1. Prologue

****I own none of this. Please don't sue me.

**Prologue**

_Life._

_It's such a wonderful thing, isn't it?_

_Full of hope, and love, and longing for things just out of reach._

_Full of possibility, and despair, and the realization that what you seek is impossible to obtain._

_Full of rules and conditions, of unforeseeable situations, of missteps and regret and that mind weariness which we call experience._

_Life._

_What is it good for?_

_What is good for it?_

_What is the point of something so resilient and so fragile, so unpredictable in its cycles, repeating patterns that are at once incomprehensible and frighteningly mundane?_

_And what is the best way to cultivate such a self-contradictory thing, the best way to maintain something that always moves towards its own destruction? How do the living maintain themselves when they realize they hate existing, and hate the end of that existence even more?_

_Life._

_To err is to live, and to live is to err. It's a simple reflexive property, one seen countless times._

_And out of these errors, human interaction emerges. It accumulates and coalesces into something so horrendously complicated that we come to hate it, trapped as we are by it. We start to strive for that which is out of reach, for something that will never be touched by our callused, broken, bloodied hands._

_By itself, this is nothing worthy of note, as everyone faces this to some degree. What is interesting is how one reacts to this. Does one ignore it? Oppose it? Accept it? Something in between?_

_It is hard to say which way is right. Right and wrong, good and evil: all these are human concepts, invented to try and explain our own existence. And though we try as we might, life always has the upper hand, constantly ridiculing our attempts to comprehend its secrets, berating us for wasting its gift on trying to discover how the gift works._

_All anyone can really say is that life goes ever onwards, towards an unknown and unknowable conclusion that some view as our salvation, others as our destruction._

_Life._

_We can say it is like water, torrential and unfathomable. We can liken it to the earth, nurturing and unstoppably powerful. We can speak of how it is like fire, consuming and hauntingly beautiful. And we can __whisper of how it resembles the wind, ethereal and beholden only to itself._

_It is all these things, and it is none of them. Cliché, but true nonetheless. Whenever we try to ascribe certain attributes to life, it simultaneously conforms to our expectations and works to undermine this perception. That is its nature, the legacy it has left for humanity. It is at once illuminating and obscuring, informing and deceiving, invigorating and parasitic._

_Perhaps the best comparison we can draw with life, then, is something necessary for its continued existence, something that also conceals its dual nature with the shroud of familiarity._

_That is to say, the closest thing to life is light._

_And the easiest way to disperse that light is through the use of a prism._

_..._

_But you're not here for my ramblings, are you? _

_No, you're here for a story. A story you've heard many times before, and one that you never seem to tire of. You probably know what to expect by now._

_Let's try something a little different, then._

_This is the story of a man who had a dream, one of heroes and salvation and justice for all. It was as selfless and hopeful as it was unrealistic. _

_This is the story of a man who was tested, pitted against those who sought the prize of an impossibility realized. He fought, and fought, and fought, until his body withered away and his dream lay dying in the dust._

_This is the story of a man who was broken by his miracle._


	2. Chapter 1: Beginnings

_******:: Sequence: Light**_

**Chapter 1: Beginnings**

**Saturday, 2/2 – Evening**

_**Shirou**_

For the second time that night, Shirou wished he had joined the track team instead.

Another transformer exploded above his head, consuming the utility pole in a blast that was partly electrical, mostly magical, and entirely too bright. He saw light, followed by stars as his forehead hit the concrete again. The smell of scorched wood and singed hair filled the air as he forced himself back up to continue running.

_Keep running. Don't stop running. You're dead if you stop._

He looked for his assailant as he ran down the empty streets. Of course, Shirou wouldn't benefit much from actually seeing his attacker, but shouldn't a dead man at least be allowed to see the face of his executioner before the end?

Unfortunately, the only thing he saw was another flash as the transformer box directly in front of him was destroyed. It was followed by more stars.

_Get up. Get up, or you won't ever get up again_.

He got up. His body was screaming at his brain to stop, but Shirou's brain was rather preoccupied with some rather basic things: namely, breathing, moving, and not dying.

_Think. He's not aiming directly at you. For some reason, he's only been targeting electrical fixtures._

Shirou ran off the sidewalk, which was lined with many electrical fixtures, and out into the middle of the street, which was not. Though his repaired body and adrenaline-fueled mind were racing, some small part of him congratulated himself on that particular insight.

He was rewarded by almost being crushed by a bisected utility pole, which then proceeded to explode.

Dimly, Shirou thought that feeling weightless for several seconds was probably not a good sign as the blast threw him into the air. He took some small comfort in the fact that it was the _back_ of his head that hit the ground this time – his forehead was killing him.

_Hah… if only that were the case. I could deal with a murderous forehead._

He tried to move, but his body felt as heavy and unyielding as steel. He tried to think, but realized that it honestly wasn't worth the effort anymore.

He was exhausted, and just wanted to close his eyes and sleep. Sleep, and dream about a regular day where he didn't have to worry about getting speared through the heart or exploded off his feet. At least this time, his body had the courtesy to stop feeling pain before his awareness faded.

After all, a man can only die so many times in single night before he starts to develop certain preferences.

* * *

**Friday, 2/1 – Evening**

_**Sakura**_

She was beautiful. Tall, strong, and calmly confident, the Servant standing in front of her seemed like everything she was not.

"I am the Servant Caster. I ask of you: are you my master?"

Sakura took a good look at her Servant, as it was likely to be the one of the last chances she would get. Caster's waist-length hair was jet black, her eyes a bright blue. Her practical black clothing was largely remarkable, which only accented how curious her cloak was: white and impossibly smooth, it was divided into sections which allowed the ends to curl up slightly.

Grandfather's voice cut through the silence. She must have been staring longer than she thought.

"Sakura. When you are done eyeing our guest, would you be so kind as to complete the summoning?"

Shinji, who was _actually_ eyeing the Servant, snickered under his breath. Sakura flushed and reminded herself why she was here.

"Er, um, yes! Yes, I am your Master, and I accept your… erm… servitude?"

It's funny how words always seem to fail you when you need them most - that wasn't supposed to happen. Shinji, oblivious to her blunder, tried to contain his laughter – and failed. Her blush deepened as Sakura felt a wave of shame and fear wash over her.

_I wasn't supposed to _accept _her as my Servant! Oh crap, what do I do?_

Caster's expression went from unamused to openly hostile, and Sakura wished the Servant's eyes didn't look so similar to those of another magus she knew. Caster's disapproval, on top of everything else, was more than she could bear.

"… alright then, Master. Let's get out of this depressing place and draw up a plan of attack."

Caster strode out of the circle, grabbed Sakura's arm, and started pulling her to the stairs. It seemed as if she was in a particular hurry to get out of the basement, and though Sakura couldn't really blame her, she resisted.

_No, please, stop! It's my fault I messed up, but this is making it worse! Please…_

Caster stopped, confused. "Is there a problem, Master?"

It was at this point that Grandfather chose to interject.

"I am afraid that there has been a slight misunderstanding, Servant Caster. You see, the girl there is not your Master."

Grandfather Zouken was an intimidating man. Sure, he didn't _look_ particularly intimidating: small, spindly, and sunken, the patriarch of the Matou family appeared to be a wrinkled old man living out the last of his days.

Thinking that that was all there was to Matou Zouken, however, would prove to be a fatal mistake.

What he lacked in physical stature, he more than made up with sheer presence, a force of will that crushed any notion of disobedience. It wasn't as if his word was law: laws can be defied, broken, changed. No, when Matou Zouken wished for something to be done, it was _done_. The concept of rebellion died when Zouken entered the picture.

The fact that he was an incredibly powerful magus didn't help much, either.

While she kept her face carefully neutral, Sakura cringed on the inside. Though it was an accident, Sakura knew all too well that _any_ mistake would be seen as disobedience, and thus punished with extreme prejudice. The girl suppressed a shudder as one of Grandfather's punishers twitched inside her.

She felt Caster's grip waver slightly. Servant or not, Caster should at least understand that a confrontation with Grandfather might not end well for her. Besides, a fight over _her_ was ridiculous – though Caster seemed… nice?… they had only just met. The prudent thing to do would be to let Grandfather do as he pleased. That's what she would have done.

Thus, it came as a bit of a surprise to Sakura when Caster actually tightened her grip.

"I don't understand. This girl summoned me and accepted me as her Servant. Among the three people present in this room, only two are magi, and only she possesses the Command Spells. Logically, she is the only possible candidate."

(In the back, Shinji spluttered. "Wait, you did _what?!_" Apparently, he had just realized what had happened. He was ignored.)

Sakura felt a wave of terror. _No, don't talk back to him!_ This was the exactly sort of defiance that would land both of them in deeper trouble. Already, she could hear Grandfather's lecture in her head: _A Servant's actions reflect their Master's intentions, and it seems as though your intentions were flawed. Allow me to correct them._

Grandfather's expression didn't change. He glanced at Sakura, and she instinctively recoiled.

"Your reasoning is mostly accurate. However, your knowledge of the current situation is... incomplete." Grandfather looked at Shinji. "Shinji, come forward."

He did, clearly angry and clutching a small book in his hand. It was obvious that he wanted to explode, but even he knew that doing so in front of Grandfather was a bad idea.

"As you correctly noticed, the boy has no magic circuits, and would not normally be allowed to enter the Heaven's Feel. However, the tool he is holding allows even a talentless magus like himself to participate."

The Book of the False Attendant. She would transfer her Command Spells to it and become little more than a human battery, supplying prana to keep Caster in this world while Shinji went out to win the War. Or try to, at least.

Grandfather's tone changed slightly, and Sakura could detect the telltale disappointment that spoke of a long night. "The plan was to have the girl transfer her Command Spells to that book, making the boy your Master. And while events have not proceeded exactly as planned, this little error can be easily rectified."

He rapped his cane once. "Sakura."

With a glare that promised future violence, Shinji opened the book and prepared to receive the Spells. Sakura sighed and resigned herself to her fate, just like she always did.

_It would have been nice to be Caster's Master, though._

Suddenly, several fully-charged magic circles appeared in mid-air. Before Sakura could cry out, beams of pure prana shot out and perforated the book. Shinji… Shinji _yelped_, jerking backwards as if he suddenly realized that the thing in his hands was both slimy and on fire.

_Did… did I do that?_

As quickly as they appeared, the magic circles vanished. Both Shinji and the burning book were sprawled on the floor, with the flames dancing in Shinji's eyes. Shock quickly turned to anger as he stood up and rounded on Sakura.

"You… you little _bitch!_ She was supposed to be _mine_, you little slut! _Mine!_ HOW **DARE** YOU TAKE HER AWAY FROM ME?!"

He lunged at Sakura, but before she could react Caster was already in between them. The Servant deftly grabbed his wrist, twisted it with a wince-inducing _crack_, and wrenched the furious boy onto the ground. Tens of magic circles suddenly surrounded Shinji, who shifted from blind fury to cowed whimpering in an impressively short amount of time. Caster's eyes were shining with rage.

"I'll only tell you this once, boy, so listen very carefully. Try attacking my Master again, and you won't have enough time to even _think_ about pissing your pants before I vaporize you." She leaned in. "Do I make myself perfectly clear?"

Shinji, sobbing and smelling distinctly of urine, nodded frantically as he nursed his broken wrist. Satisfied with this answer, Caster turned to Grandfather.

"Due to an unexpected accident, it appears that the boy is no longer willing or able to become my Master. Unless you intend to transfer the girl's Spells to yourself, it appears that I am forced to accept the girl as my Master, as unfortunate as it is."

Grandfather cocked his head slightly, amused. "Suppose that I intended to do as you suggested. What would you do?"

Caster smiled then, the wolfish grin of a predator. "If that were to happen, then I suppose additional unexpected accidents may occur."

Sakura winced as Grandfather's laughter filled the room, a sickening, wheezing thing that reverberated through her body. Caster never faltered – indeed, her smile widened a bit, almost in anticipation. Desperately afraid, Sakura prepared to shout at her Servant to run, to escape, to do anything but fight. Even if she _was_ powerful, she had no idea what he was capable of, and Sakura didn't want to let her find out.

Before she was able to work up enough courage, however, something terrible happened. Grandfather… _smiled_.

"Good. _Very _good. I admit, I had my fears about your capabilities as a Servant, but it seems those have been largely unfounded." His eyes defocused slightly. "Yes… with this, the Matou family may finally be able to win this War."

He stepped aside to let them pass. Trembling slightly, Sakura could feel his eyes on her the whole way up the stairs.

_Caster… what have you done?_

* * *

**:: Rewind Scene**

_**Zouken**_

"I am the Servant Caster. I ask of you: are you my master?"

This wasn't the Servant he was expecting.

He took a closer look. The woman's cloak was magically made – a Mystic Code, perhaps – but the rest of her clothing looked more suitable for a fighter. Devoid of any ornamentation, her apparel was designed for practicality without any regards to style, which was unusual for a magus.

But more than that, this self-proclaimed Caster seemed to be utterly devoid of prana.

He glanced his adoptive daughter. Eyes wide and mouth slightly open, the girl was either awed or surprised by the creature in front of her. Perhaps both.

"Sakura. When you are done eyeing our guest, would you be so kind as to complete the summoning?"

Some part of him delighted in watching her squirm. The rest of him continued to focus on the Servant before him. So far, he was not impressed.

"Er, um, yes! Yes, I am your Master, and I accept your… erm… servitude?"

As Shinji laughed, Zouken's mood darkened even more. Flustered as she was, the girl had made a mistake. Though it was far from serious, he made a mental note to punish her later for not thinking things through. Consistency was key when dealing with children, after all.

He noticed the look Caster shot at Shinji. A sense of nobility, eh? Good. Easier to manipulate.

"… alright then, Master. Let's get out of this depressing place and draw up a plan of attack."

He watched as Caster tried to leave with Sakura, only to have the girl pull back. Inside, he smiled slightly. His methods were nothing if not effective.

"Is there a problem, Master?"

Time to correct the girl's mistake.

"I am afraid that there has been a slight misunderstanding, Servant Caster. You see, the girl there is not your Master."

He saw Sakura's eyes darken ever so slightly. _Still holding onto hope? Foolish girl, you should know better than that_. He made one of his worms wriggle inside her, to let her know precisely what he thought of that.

All he could see in Caster's eyes was defiance.

"I don't understand. This girl summoned me and accepted me as her Servant. Among the three people present in this room, only two are magi, and only she possesses the Command Spells. Logically, she is the only possible candidate."

_Analytical. Knew that the girl had the Command Spells without receiving verbal or visual proof. Impressive, considering that she does not seem to have any capacity for magecraft._

Were he following the rules, Caster would have a point. Fortunately, he had helped _design_ those rules, meaning that it was his unique privilege to ignore them entirely.

"Your reasoning is mostly accurate. However, your knowledge of the current situation is... incomplete. Shinji, come forward."

The boy did so, seething at what was at worst a trivial error. Zouken didn't really care what Shinji would do to Sakura later, as long as he didn't make a scene right now.

"As you correctly noticed, the boy has no magic circuits, and would not normally be allowed to enter the Heaven's Feel. However, the tool he is holding allows even a talentless magus like himself to participate."

Though her composure revealed nothing, Zouken could sense the woman's discomfort.

_Maybe you two have something in common, then._

He injected a hint of annoyance into his voice. He wasn't actually angry at Sakura, but it was necessary to start putting the girl back in her place. Consistency, consistency, consistency.

"The plan was to have the girl transfer her Command Spells to that book, making the boy your Master. And while events have not proceeded exactly as planned, this little error can be easily rectified."

He brought his cane down, to get the girl's attention. "Sakura."

As she prepared to transfer the Command Spells, Zouken considered his situation. He was having mixed feelings about this woman. Though her composure was admirable, she was disobedient, and her lack of prana made him question her actual effectiveness as a Caster-type Servant. It was unlikely to be a mishap in the summoning process, as he would have been the first one to detect-

Zouken's flow of thought was interrupted when he felt seven prana signatures suddenly materialize out of nowhere.

_What?_

He watched with fascination as magic circles appeared in the air and incinerated the Book of the False Attendant. The slight discomfort caused by the destruction of the book's worms didn't even register to him.

_Those circles were drawn on some flying surface, no doubt enchanted to be invisible – though that does not explain how I was not able to detect them. Furthermore, the circles themselves did not generate that attack. No, they seemed to be… pathways._

"You… you little _bitch!_ She was supposed to be _mine_, you little slut! _Mine!_ HOW **DARE** YOU TAKE HER AWAY FROM ME?!"

Caster handled the boy's foolish outburst with a combination of martial skill and raw brutality. He approved.

Once again, the circles appeared, surrounding the boy. They were unlike any thaumaturgy he had encountered, seemingly cobbled together from a variety of different disciplines. He thought he even saw a rune or two floating around in their shifting forms.

"I'll only tell you this once, boy, so listen very carefully. Try attacking my Master again, and you won't have enough time to even _think_ about pissing your pants before I vaporize you. Do I make myself perfectly clear?"

The Servant turned to him, expression neutral but eyes aflame. Clearly, first appearances were deceiving with this one.

This was the most entertained he had been in a long, long time.

"Due to an unexpected accident, it appears that the boy is no longer willing or able to become my Master. Unless you intend to transfer the girl's Spells to yourself, it appears that I am forced to accept the girl as my Master, as unfortunate as it is."

If Matou Zouken still had a heart, it would have been filled with a tiny amount of twisted, perverse hope. Because he was composed entirely of worms, however, he merely felt excited.

_Excellent. Cruel, underhanded, and powerful to boot. Not afraid to punish those clearly beneath her._

_Let's push her a bit_.

"Suppose that I intended to do as you suggested. What would you do?"

The creature grinned, one that promised a quick incapacitation followed by a slow, agonizing death. "If that were to happen, then I suppose additional unexpected accidents may occur."

It was a wonderful answer, one that revealed a willingness to do anything, to become anything, to achieve some final end. It didn't matter to her that she was in an unfamiliar place, staring down a powerful magus in the seat of his power – the woman in front of him would destroy anything that got in her way to get what she wanted. For the first in time in a long time, Zouken felt the faintest stirrings of fear.

He laughed. He couldn't help it. After all these years, he had finally found a kindred spirit.

"Good. _Very _good. I admit, I had my fears about your capabilities as a Servant, but it seems those have been largely unfounded."

So close. Though this war had not started yet, Zouken felt that his goal was so very, very close.

"Yes… with this, the Matou family may finally be able to win this War."

As the girl and the woman passed him by, Zouken was lost in thought.

_There is one small problem. For whatever reason, she has taken the girl into her protection. Chivalry, perhaps? A sense of justice?_

Smiling as he looked back at this wonderful monster, he decided that it was irrelevant. He couldn't have asked for a more perfect Servant. True, her insubordination and nobility were hindrances, but it was far easier to make small adjustments to an otherwise ideal specimen than to try to create one from scratch.

He looked forward to breaking this one.

* * *

**:: Rewind Scene**

_**Caster**_

_Summoning complete. Alaya, but I hope I'm in the right era. Partition check._

She split her mind six times, and six voices answered simultaneously.

_[Subpartition 1A checking in. Mental fragmentation within acceptable ranges.]_

_[Subpartition 1B checking in. Waiting on you.]_

_[Twoa here! Aren't you guys excited?!]_

_[This is Twob. Ready to kick some ass.]_

_[III A. Dammit, you couldn't let me rest a little longer?]_

_[… iii b. how much is it going to hurt this time?]_

Good. Everything was alright with her head.

_Body check. Spek, how am I doing?_

A wave of sensation flowed from Caster's heart to the rest of her body as the integrity scan proceeded. She locked her muscles for this part, otherwise she would be convulsing in a heap on the ground – not the most dignified way to make an entrance.

She didn't hear the answer. Rather, she _felt_ it.

_:: Looks like you're alright. A couple parts might need maintenance soon, but nothing requiring immediate replacement. I am, of course, pristine._

_:: I still find it funny that you have to ask. You _did _share a part of your soul with me, remember?_

For the umpteenth time, Caster seriously considered just rewriting Spektrum.

_:: Meanie! I felt that._

_Just follow the checklist, please._

_:: Fine. Let me see… my check is next. Yay!_

_And you're obviously alright. Check complete. Time elapsed: 0.34 seconds._

_:: HEY!_

Ignoring her disgruntled cloak, Caster terminated all her mental partitions except for Partition 1. While she hoped she would be on familiar ground, there was still the possibility that she had arrived for the wrong Heaven's Feel. If that was the case, she could use all the impartial calculation she could get.

Caster turned on her eyes, and saw a girl she hadn't seen for a long, long time.

_[1B: I don't have to cross-check that face to know whose it is. Time period confirmed to be 21st_ _century, Fifth Holy Grail War. We made it.]_

Local scan. Room confirmed to be the basement of the Matou manor. She expected the three people present, and hated two of them.

_Shinji and Zouken. I forgot what they looked like, and now I remember why._

_Sakura… for everyone's sake, let's just get this over quickly._

"I am the Servant Caster. I ask of you: are you my master?"

Caster's announcement was met with a deafening silence. Zouken was leering at her, Sakura was gawking at her, and Shinji was… ogling her.

Even though she was a spirit and didn't have to worry about trivial things like personal hygiene anymore, Caster still felt like she wanted to take a shower.

_[1A: Current scenario falls within 95% confidence interval boundaries. Is something wrong with the audio feed?]_

"Sakura. When you are done eyeing our guest, would you be so kind as to complete the summoning?"

_[1A: … nevermind.]_

Shinji, who was standing right behind Sakura, started to snicker in a way he thought was unnoticeable. She glared at him, hoping to shut him up, but he didn't notice.

_Spek, deploy some _Licht _platforms for me, will you?_

_:: Way ahead of you._

28 _Lichts_ left Spektrum and took up firing positions around Shinji, waiting for Caster's command to invert. Even after all these years, the boy was still intolerable.

"Er, um, yes! Yes, I am your Master, and I accept your… erm… servitude?"

That voice. So frail, uncertain, innocent. It was a memory made manifest, one of a quiet girl who had uncertain hopes for the future, who dreamed of a quiet life with her beloved.

She had no idea what was in store for her. Though Caster never really believed in God, she prayed that the girl would never lose sight of that dream.

_[1A: Contract confirmation falls outside predictions. Priority – Remove Sakura from the situation. With luck, next event on current prediction sequence can be preempted.]_

"… alright then, Master. Let's get out of this depressing place and draw up a plan of attack."

Dropping the white hairs she held in her hand, she stepped forward and pulled Sakura with more force than one might expect. Caster was aware of the girl's circumstances, and knew that she would be hesitant to do anything in Zouken's presence that he did not specifically command her to do.

She proved to be even more stubborn than anticipated.

"Is there a problem, Master?"

Caster already knew what the problem was, but for appearance's sake she had to ask.

"I am afraid that there has been a slight misunderstanding, Servant Caster. You see, the girl there is not your Master."

That voice. Long-forgotten memories pushed against her consciousness before she locked them out. She considered it repulsive that such an abomination could manipulate itself to generate something resembling human speech. At least her own body parts were still human.

Technically.

_[1A: Feign ignorance while provoking him. Zouken must not suspect that we know anything, but must feel the need to summon a second Servant.]_

"I don't understand. This girl summoned me and accepted me as her Servant. Among the three people present in this room, only two are magi, and only she possesses the Command Spells. Logically, she is the only possible candidate."

_At least, she's the only one with Command Spells on her person._ Being the devious old magus that he was, Zouken almost certainly had ways to circumvent that particular problem. That was what she hoped for, actually.

"Your reasoning is mostly accurate. However, your knowledge of the current situation is... incomplete."

_It's more complete than you might suspect._

"Shinji, come forward."

_[1B: Considering that you're me, you probably know this already, but we can't allow that Spell transfer.]_

"As you correctly noticed, the boy has no magic circuits, and would not normally be allowed to enter the Heaven's Feel. However, the tool he is holding allows even a talentless magus like himself to participate."

Caster picked up on the slight inflection in Zouken's voice, and noticed Sakura's terrified reaction. It made her furious.

"The plan was to have the girl transfer her Command Spells to that book, making the boy your Master. And while events have not proceeded exactly as planned, this little error can be easily rectified."

The monster tapped his cane.

"Sakura."

For once in her life, Caster felt as if she understood Shinji: both of them were extremely – and irrationally – angry. Unlike him, however, her ability to split her mind meant that she could get away with a little bit of righteous anger. He glared murderously at Sakura as he opened the book to begin the transfer.

_Now._

Taking a microsecond to adjust their outputs, Caster activated seven _Lichts_ simultaneously, causing them to revert into their outward-facing conformation. Beams of pure prana shot out and destroyed the book with a satisfying _bwoomph_.

Okay, maybe that wasn't _exactly_ the sound it made. Onomatopoeia was not her strong suit. Suffice it to say that it was satisfying as hell.

"You… you little _bitch!_ She was supposed to be _mine_, you little slut! _Mine!_ HOW **DARE** YOU TAKE HER AWAY FROM ME?!"

That voice. It could be mocking, or callous, or afraid, but whenever it was furious things were always about to get worse.

Apparently, Shinji mistook Caster's independent action for something that Sakura commanded her to do. Zouken obviously wasn't going to do anything, so it fell to Caster to take corrective action.

_You had this coming._

With a step, twist, and a crack, Shinji was blubbering on the floor, rage replaced with pain and fear. Pathetic as he was, Caster almost pitied him. Of course, when she noticed a pale yellow fluid spreading across the floor and ruining her good shoes, that feeling disappeared at the speed of thought.

Seeing Sakura empathize with him didn't help her mood much, either.

"I'll only tell you this once, boy, so listen very carefully. Try attacking my Master again, and you won't have enough time to even _think_ about pissing your pants before I vaporize you."

Belatedly, Caster realized that all 28 deployed Licht platforms were active and waiting for her to turn Shinji into another smear on the floor. She was sorely tempted to just end him right there, but she still needed him for the next part of her plan.

"Do I make myself perfectly clear?"

Shinji nodded so violently that Caster thought he would break his own neck. It would certainly save her the trouble.

_[1B: Can't turn back now. Appeal to Zouken's sadistic side. Don't make him an enemy just yet.]_

That was just as well. She was feeling particularly vindictive at the moment.

"Due to an unexpected accident, it appears that the boy is no longer willing or able to become my Master. Unless you intend to transfer the girl's Spells to yourself, it appears that I am forced to accept the girl as my Master, as unfortunate as it is."

Zouken smiled, and Caster wished that didn't go over as well as it had.

"Suppose that I intended to do as you suggested. What would you do?"

In spite of her anger, or maybe because of it, Caster smiled.

_Trying to see how I would react?_

She told him the truth. After all, sometimes honesty _was_ the best policy.

"If that were to happen, then I suppose additional unexpected accidents may occur."

He laughed. Forget showering – Caster wished she could jump into a vat of ammonia. Or maybe bathe herself in a hydrothermal vent at the bottom of the sea. Either would be preferable.

Additionally, Zouken laughing was always a bad thing. It would be inconvenient if things turned violent now: unprepared as she was, he would be a tough opponent, and she wouldn't have much room to maneuver given the cramped confines of the basement and Sakura's presence. Besides, she also needed him to do one more thing for her.

Then again, if he wanted a fight, Caster would gladly oblige.

"Good. _Very _good. I admit, I had my fears about your capabilities as a Servant, but it seems those have been largely unfounded."

_You have no idea what I'm capable of, old man._

"Yes… with this, the Matou family may finally be able to win this War."

He stepped aside, and though she was mostly relieved, Caster still felt slightly disappointed. Still, she moved quickly: she needed to get Sakura out of here, and this was the chance to do just that before anything more dramatic happened.

_[1A: First step complete.]_

_[1B: And a million more to go.]_

As she climbed the stairs with Sakura in tow, Caster reviewed her goals for this war. She wasn't going to let anything, not even herself, get in the way of her wish.

Because this wish wasn't something the Grail could grant. How could it?

It had taken it away in the first place.


	3. Chapter 2, Almost Parallel

**Chapter 2: Almost Parallel**

**Friday, 2/1 – Evening **

_**Zouken**_

He normally preferred subtler methods, long-term strategies composed of gentle nudging and sharp corrections here and there. Time was the ultimate expression of entropy, after all, and he preferred to savor the process, to wait until the subject was at that critical point where their will was weak enough to be pliable, yet strong enough to believe that the changes made had been of their own volition.

Now, though, time was short. His normal methods would be counterproductive for this particular case, so he opted for a more direct approach.

A flash of light. Once again, the Servant who appeared was not the one he intended to summon – though it _was_ the one he had intended to summon originally. Curious.

"I am the Servant Rider. Which of you is my master?"

Hm? Ah, the boy. He was still there, hunched over on the ground and clutching his broken wrist. When he felt Zouken's gaze on him, he faced the old magus briefly before averting his eyes.

Zouken read a lot into that glimpse. Fear, hatred, self-doubt, shame, helplessness. But for the briefest of moments, there had been hope.

It seemed the boy still wanted to fight.

Zouken considered his options. Shinji's animosity towards Caster might prove to be beneficial, allowing him to earn the trust of both sides by playing them off each other. The effort required to create another Book would be relatively insignificant compared the possible benefit of having two Servants under his control.

But then again, Shinji would be Shinji, a spineless coward who only ever produced results in situations where victory was already assured. He was rash and unpredictable when driven to anger, which could end very poorly for him. Caster's beating had made that all too clear.

No. The boy was too unreliable, too irrational. This war could end in a victory for the Matou, but Shinji was not the one to lead them there.

He turned back to the Servant standing before him, savored the hope that was once again creeping into the boy's eyes, and announced:

"I am."

* * *

**Saturday, 2/2 – Midnight **

_**BOOM**_

Elsewhere, a certain young magus managed to complete a considerably less successful summoning of her own.

* * *

_**Sakura**_

Initially, it wasn't as bad as the other times. The broken wrist certainly slowed him down, though the blows he _did_ connect with were more forceful than they usually were. The rest went as it normally did.

Then Grandfather came. Her last conscious thought was that she might not be able to get up on time tomorrow before pain became her world.

* * *

_**Caster**_

Maybe, if she retreated deep enough into her mind, she would stop feeling so damn guilty.

_[1A: Adjusting concealment parameters: matching prana emissions with ambient mana levels. Setting baseline mana absorption rates… ] _

_[1B: It had to be done. Given the circumstances, it was a relatively good outcome. At least it isn't anything she hasn't been through before.] _

_[Twoa: Come on, cheer up. We're finally here, and we'll have the chance to see so many familiar, not-yet-hostile faces again! Rider, for starters.]_

_[Twob: Sucking od from schoolkids? I don't like this at all. If you're going to pick a fight, just do it mano a womano and get it over with.]_

_[III A: 1A, we should probably desync the emission level slightly from the environment. It's supposed to be a lure, remember?]_

_[iii b: after all you've done, _this _is what you hate yourself for? please.]_

Nope. Didn't work.

"Rider. I'm done here."

These particular concealment/modification circles weren't her best work, but she had neither the time nor the motivation to make something more elegant. Besides, doing so would be counterproductive.

This was a trap, designed to catch a very specific kind of fool: the noble kind.

"… impressive. I wasn't aware that such alterations could be made to Noble Phantasms."

Rider. Under that cold mask were a pair of Mystic Eyes and a staunchly loyal heart, betrayed by a jealous goddess and driven to madness and despair. Though Caster was overjoyed to see her again, Zouken's actions had made sure that Caster couldn't consider her any less than an enemy.

"Well, it's still magecraft in the end, which just so happens to be what I'm good at. Besides, in my day I developed a reputation for messing with things that probably should have been left alone, so I'm used to this sort of work."

"… I see."

Rider fell silent again. It would be difficult to gain her confidence, considering how distrustful she was of anyone and anything. While Caster was sure Rider wouldn't get along well with Zouken, at the moment she had no real reason to betray him. Caster desperately hoped that she could come up with some way to make her an ally before it was too late.

_[iii a: i guess you're the jealous one this time.]_

Ride astralized as Caster cloaked, and both started their return journey to the manor, Caster reviewed the events prior to this excursion in her head, to find some moral justification for what she had done, however indirectly.

_Finished with her business, she walked towards Sakura's room. Before she could make it, however, Zouken appeared, followed closely by… Rider?_

_Zouken is with Rider. This was not what was supposed to happen._

"_Caster, this is Rider. You two will be working together from this point forwards."_

_Shinji is supposed to be Rider's Master. Shinji is not here. Zouken is. Therefore, Zouken is Rider's master? _

_This was not what was supposed to happen. _

"_Do not be impolite, Rider. Say hello."_

"… _hello."_

_Caster's neutral façade slipped for the briefest of moments, and Zouken grinned. He must have thought it was because she was afraid of Rider, of the limitations she represented to Caster's freedom. In a way, he was right and wrong: she wasn't scared, but it _did _narrow her options._

_Dammit. The old man was supposed to give Rider to Shinji, after which she could dispose of the boy at her leisure, take control of Rider, and – _

_Wait. Shinji is not here. __**Shinji is not here.**_

_She increased her audio sensitivity and heard a bed creaking in a room up ahead. This was not what was supposed to happen. _

_No. No no no no no no no nononononononononononono - _

…

_Because the core partition was in shock and no longer responding, it fell to Spek to process the rest of the conversation._

"_As a… team-building exercise, you and Rider will lay bait for some of the more quixotic masters at the Fuyuki high school. With your skill at subterfuge and Rider's unique abilities, it should prove to be quite effective at concentrating these idealists for quick elimination."_

_Spek felt the core keep repeating the word "no" over and over. Due to the core's constant thought acceleration, that amounted to a lot of nos._

"_Do an adequate job, and your Master may even be fit enough to attend school tomorrow."_

_Spektrum took over Caster's body processes, headed out with Rider, and hoped that she could forgive herself later._

As usual, she couldn't.

* * *

**Saturday, 2/2 – Early Morning **

_**Shirou**_

"**SHIIIIROOOOOOUUUUUU! GOOD MOOOOOOORNIIII – **eh? Where's Sakura-chan?"

It was a question Shirou had asked himself, but the only person who could answer it was, of course, not present.

"I don't know, Fuji-nee. She didn't say anything earlier, so maybe something came up?"

Unconvinced, Taiga started poking her nose under various pieces of furniture, as if Sakura was playing a particularly elaborate game of hide-and-seek where the other players had no idea that there was a game and they were playing. Finding no trace of her under the dining table or tatami mats, Taiga sighed as she accepted a bowl of rice from Shirou.

"Gaaaaaahhhhhh. This just isn't like her, you know? So sweet and responsible and punctual, she's the just a teacher's _dream!_"

Taiga paused to take a bite out of breakfast. Well, maybe "bite" was the wrong word. A closer synonym would be "inhale".

"Though you know, Sakura isn't just a _teacher's_ dream. There's a lot of competition for her in the _seedy underbelly_ of the school. Games of intrigue and romance and betrayal!... Not that _you_ would ever be interested in such a thing, Shirou."

There was a savage glint in her eyes. "_**Nor should you ever be."**_

Shirou gulped. "O-of course not, Fujimara-sensei."

The moment of danger had passed, and Taiga returned to her normal, bubbly self. "Yep! That's my Shirou-kun!"

She tore back into her breakfast, and Shirou felt that it was finally safe to start eating himself. Thus, Taiga's next question caught him completely off-balance.

"So, are you going to be the man to take her away from all that?"

Shirou nearly choked. "Wha – "

"Sorry I'm late, senpai!"

A familiar voice called out from the doorway. Though he was trying to remember how to breathe, Shirou noticed that Sakura sounded different today. Strained, almost.

"Ah, Sakura-chan! Shirou-kun was just talking about you!"

"Huh? H-he was?"

She came into the dining room, with a blush on her face. She glanced briefly at him, blushed even deeper, and focused her attention squarely on Taiga.

It was, in a word, cute.

"W-what did he say?"

"You knowwwww. We were just talking about how– "

No. He couldn't let this continue.

"How you would be hungry if you missed breakfast today since you weren't here earlier so I might bring something to you when you had morning practice but now you're here so eat as much as you want!"

_Way too close_.

He glared at Fuji-nee, but she was too busy enjoying her third helping to notice. The Tiger of Fuyuki was a formidable opponent indeed.

Sakura was smiling sheepishly at him. "Oh… thanks, but since I woke up late today I already ate a little something at home. I just came over to help with the dishes."

Awkward.

Shirou ate the rest of his breakfast, Fuji-nee finished her forth portion, and Sakura ate a little something as well, though Shirou suspected it was more out of politeness than anything. True to her word, Sakura helped clean up as Taiga lounged around a bit, the spitting image of the slightly-irresponsible adult. Afterwards, Shirou escorted Sakura to the front door to see her off as she left for archery practice.

The whole time, he tried not think of Taiga's question.

"Senpai… thanks for thinking about me. It… it means a lot to me. Really."

She looked at him, and Shirou felt himself flush in spite of himself. It was useless: Taiga's question just wouldn't leave him alone.

"You're welcome. You're like a part of the family now, after all. Even if it's a minor thing like that, I'd be willing to help you out. That's what family does, right?"

Sakura smiled at him, but Shirou thought he saw the faintest trace of pain. It must have been his imagination, as her demeanor turned playful soon after.

"Be careful. I might just hold you to that."

She put on her shoes and skipped out the front door. Having some confusing feelings to sort through, he started to go back inside when he heard Sakura's voice again.

"Senpai?"

"Yeah?"

"Um… bring a sweater. It might be cold today."

* * *

**Saturday, 2/2 – Morning**

_**Rin**_

"A-_choo!"_**_  
_**

As Rin entered the school building, someone sneezed. "Brr. It's _cold _in here!"

And it was. Winters were usually mild in Fuyuki City, but the school was still heated to ward off the cold. Today, though, it felt like someone had amped up the air conditioning and dumped a truckload of dry ice into the hallways. It certainly wasn't this cold on the way to school.

She heard Archer's voice at her side. "Rin. Something isn't right."

"You mean _besides_ this unnatural, prickly chill?"

She _had_ detected a distorted prana signature when she entered the gate, but it vanished as soon as it appeared. She had dismissed it as a fluke. Now, she wasn't so sure.

"That's just it. I can feel it too."

… what? Archer was in his spirit form, meaning that mundane things like temperature and the laws of physics shouldn't affect him in his current state (proper decorum didn't affect him, either, though that applied regardless of the form he took).

If _Archer_ could feel it, then…

"… then it's _not_ a building-wide heater failure, is it?" She was looking forward to grilling Issei about it, too.

"Unlikely, considering that they're going full blast."

Rin checked a thermometer, and saw that while the air temperature was slightly cooler than regulation, it was still too warm for how cold she was feeling. Curiously, no one else bothered to check the instrument. Rin shifted gears mentally as her suspicions increased.

As she walked into the hall, someone's stomach growled rather loudly.

"So if it's not the _body_ that feels cold…"

"… then it must be something else. I came to the same conclusion."

Rin frowned and consulted her memory.

There are two kinds of prana available for those who have the capacity to use it: mana, which is the ambient prana present in the world at large, and od, which is the prana generated by all animals that allow them to function – in other words, life force. Using mana to power the mysteries of thaumaturgy is standard practice amongst mages, as there is normally so much of it that a single spell usually wouldn't make much of a dent in local mana levels.

Because it takes time and effort to convert mana into a form humans can use, and because people are lazy, most mages resort to using a little bit of their od to get a spell going in the first place, Think of a spell as an internal combustion engine: the spark plug (od) provides the energy to start the combustion (spell), while the gasoline (mana) provides the energy to allow the reaction to continue.

Why is this important? If a person was drained of almost all their od at once, then they would suffer a number of severe problems, including physical incapacitation, permanently altered mental status, horrendous scarring of the body and mind, and death. If the drain was rapid, then they would do only slightly better, having to suffer such ills as physical exhaustion, temporary amnesia, heavy nausea, and hunger.

However, if the od drain was very, _very_ slow, then all anyone would feel is a persistent chill before more advanced symptoms began to appear.

As she entered her classroom, a student yawned, slumped on his desk, and started to snore. Loudly.

"Archer. I have reason to believe that someone has placed a very subtle plundering field on the school. You are to sweep the grounds and notify me when you have found the source of the field."

She felt a flash of surprise, followed by intense focus as Archer began his search. At least he could be serious when the situation required it.

Souichirou-sensei stepped in to begin homeroom, but he was missing something.

"Ah. I appear to have forgotten my briefcase in the men's washroom. Please excuse me for a moment."

Rin sighed. It was going to be a long day.

* * *

**Saturday, 2/2 – Afternoon**

_**Shirou**_

Shirou put on his sweater as he entered the archery dojo. Shinji was supposed to be in charge of cleanup today, but since he broke his wrist, Shirou was "volunteered" to clean up the range instead. By himself.

He didn't really mind, though. It felt good to be helping a friend in need, and he was glad to have a little time alone. Issei had pestered him all day about fixing the school's heaters, while Shirou tried to convince him that they weren't actually broken. Given that the school remained unusually cold, his efforts were largely unsuccessful, and only a timely stomachache saved him from further exasperation. Shirou valued Issei as a friend, but occasionally he could be a little too much.

Besides, it gave him time to think about… other things.

Pulling a hood over his head to fight off the chill, he knelt down and got to work.

* * *

**Saturday, 2/2 – Evening**

_**Rin**_

"Here's one of them. I swear the damn things were _toying _with me. The signatures kept jumping to the opposite ends of the school before I could get close to one."

A magic circle was on the ground, its erratically shifting form perforated by a number of strange-looking arrows.

"I may have… damaged it slightly."

It was… how should she put it? It was haphazard, an amalgamation of different symbols, languages, lines, and curves, with sections of the circle not pierced by arrows shifting at regular intervals. It was messy, a bastardization of a variety of different magical theories, as if someone had copied diagrams _ad nauseum_ and lumped them together in a random fashion. It was needlessly complicated, where intricate workarounds were devised to fill in for much simpler ideas, as if the circle's creator simply didn't understand the concept that would allow for greater parsimony in the design.

But most amazing thing was this: it _worked_. Very well, if Archer's annoyance was any indication.

It was, quite simply, the most hideous and most incredible thing Rin had ever seen.

"Archer. What do you make of this?"

Archer performed the spiritual equivalent of a shrug.

"I have no idea. It looks like someone ate a grimoire and regurgitated it."

Considering that someone had thrown up in class earlier in the day, she _really_ didn't need that mental image right now.

"And yet, this conceptual vomitus was able to elude you for the better part of the day."

Archer bristled. "I still found it, didn't I?"

"_After_ you shot it full of arrows. 16, if my count is correct."

"… point."

She knelt down to get a closer look. Some of the components were too damaged to examine, and she didn't understand the purpose of most of them, but Rin was able to make out a couple things here and there. Specifically, the part that plundered odic energy (which seemed to be able to lower its intake when a target's odic levels fell below a certain level), a rather ingenious method of detecting background mana levels without using any prana, and a slight error in the prana emission concealer which could only have been intentional, given the odd sophistication of the rest of the circle.

But more importantly, she found its power source.

Tracing the prana lines back to a specific point, she dug into the ground a bit, felt something smooth, and pulled out…

A jewel?

_Huh?_

Before her mind could start working again, however, the regular oscillations of the designs started to waver as the circle, deprived of its power source, began to collapse. The spasms grew slower and slower, until they eventually stopped. Shortly afterwards, the circle disappeared entirely.

What took its place was _another_ circle of a completely different nature.

They were like night and day: while first circle was subtle and enigmatic, this circle was overt and incredibly potent. Painted with something disturbingly like blood, all Rin could feel from this second circle was a corrosive consumption, almost as if she were in something's stomach. It had only one purpose: to suck dry everything within its boundaries, leaving its victims little more than husks, barely alive and desperately wishing that they weren't.

Master or not, whoever had drawn these circles was very clearly an enemy.

"Archer?"

"Yes?"

"How many of these circles did you detect?"

"Around 7. Probably more."

Her expression hardened. "Shoot them. _All_ of them."

He smiled.

"Master, it would be my genuine pleasure."

* * *

_**Caster**_

Well, that was fast.

Someone had already dismantled all of the concealment circles, and was most likely attempting to mess with the considerably more sinister ones underneath.

_Spek. Projection mode. Combat configuration: long-range interdiction._

_:: 6.4 seconds until ready._

Caster fully split her mind again. If it was going to be a fight against other Servants, she would need access to all her thought capacities.

_[1A: Reviewing known characteristics of possible opponents. Servants: Archer, Archer, Assassin, Berserker, Lancer, Saber. Masters: von Einzbern, Ilyasviel. *skip*. Tohsaka, Rin…]_

_[1B: Fights are always chaotic. It's entirely possible that you'll be able to create a situation to undermine Zouken's control over Sakura.]_

_[Twoa: I want to study the meninges this time! Please?]_

_[Twob: Hell yeah. Let's do this. Preparing battle patterns. Primary: Long-Range. Secondary: Close-Quarters.]_

_[III A: Here we go… let me know if you need me to start the incantation.]_

_[iii b: body functioning at 83% capacity. current rate of decay is roughly 2% per hour.] _

_:: Ready. Opening storage dimension now._

She grabbed her bow and prepared to kill this wonderful, misguided fool.

* * *

...

...

...

...

...

...

...

_**Shadow**_

It would wait. It had always waited, from the beginning of time.

Waited for someone who wished for it.

Waited for someone who longed for it.

Waited for someone who desired it.

The wait would be over soon. Already, someone had been located, their subconscious contacted. A harbinger, to bear all the evils of the world and realize the ultimate wish of humanity.

Soon, but not now. It had waited for such a long time.

It could wait a little longer.


	4. Chapter 3: A Slight Deviation

**Chapter 3: A Slight Deviation**

**Saturday, 2/2 – Evening**

_**Lancer**_

Lancer liked his Master, but sometimes the girl was too serious for her own good.

Take, for example, their strategy meeting this afternoon.

"_You are to conceal yourself and patrol Miyama Town for any signs of enemy activity. Pay special attention to the Homurahara Academy, as at least two other Masters currently attend that school. I'll reconnoiter the Shinto area and – are you even listening to me?!"_

_His Master was cute when flustered, but Lancer was having a bad feeling about this._

"_Hm? Oh, of course I am, lass. I was just waiting for the bit where you to tell me that I could go all out if I actually _find _someone."_

_The look he got pretty much confirmed his suspicions._

"_Absolutely not. If you can prod them into revealing their Noble Phantasms, then by all means do so, but I strictly forbid you from giving yourself away. We need to do this right if we're going to win, and that involves knowing your enemy before you fight. I'm _not _going to let you throw your life away for some… stupid notion of honor!"_

_Things only got worse from there, culminating in his Master using a Command Spell that prevented him from fighting at full power unless she could see him. _

_He didn't know why, but for some reason Lancer thought that that shady priest was somehow behind all of this._

He passed the school for the thirtieth time that day. Like the last twenty-nine times, all he could detect was –

A very potent bounded field going up around it.

Lancer blinked, then smiled. Maybe tonight wasn't going to be as boring as he first thought.

* * *

_**Archer**_

As soon as Rin dismantled the last circle, Archer felt the boundary field become much more noticeable. Those irritating circles prevented the malicious ones underneath from linking up, presumably to help hide them better. Since all the stealth circles were gone, the ones underneath were now free to plunder to their creator's content. The only upside to this whole scenario was that the plundering field, for whatever reason, still wasn't fully charged.

"Master, we should come back another time. Any enemy Servants or Masters in the area would have definitely noticed that field going up."

Rin shook her head. "I appreciate your concern, Archer, but I can't let this slide. Fuyuki is _my_ city, and I won't allow this good-for-nothing Master to just do as he pleases. This is a _school_, for God's sake!"

She went back to examining the circle. "You're right, though. We shouldn't stay for much longer, but I think I can at least reduce the daily prana intake these circles are getting before we leave. Archer, could you– "

Archer's combat instincts started screaming at him.

"Well, well, well. What's a pretty girl like you doing at this hour? Shouldn't you be at home studying or something?"

The Servant in blue had come out of nowhere. Judging by the evil-looking lance slung casually across his shoulder, Archer guessed that this was Lancer.

"Unless, of course, the thing that just went up is _related_ to your studies."

His easy smile and relaxed posture were distinctly at odds with the killing intent he was barely suppressing. Though Rin was obviously surprised and frightened, Archer had to give her credit: she had the presence of mind to start readying some of the jewels in her pocket. They probably wouldn't help much, but still. It was the thought that counted.

"Isn't that right? Tohsaka… Ren? Len? Ring?"

As his Master spluttered a response ("It's _Rin!_"), Lancer rushed her, closing the distance between them in a heartbeat. Fortunately for her, Archer's materialization was faster.

_Trace – ON!_

_**CLANG**_

Archer crossed his blades and deflected the thrust downwards, the spear barely missing his thigh. Before he could counterattack, Lancer hopped backwards to create space and assumed a neutral stance, spear leveled at Archer.

"Yo! I was wondering when you'd show up!"

The knight in blue charged again. The tip of his spear seemed to dance.

_He has more reach and is faster than me. He'll feint to create an opening, then poke me full of holes when my guard is in the wrong place._

As if on cue, the tip of the spear seemed to freeze in place as Lancer lunged at his face.

_In that case – _

Archer felt the spear graze by as he jerked his head at the last moment, feeling slightly smug by the surprised look on Lancer's face.

_Wasn't expecting that, huh? _

He swung with both swords, boosting the attraction between Kanshou and Byakuya to increase the speed of the swing. Fast as he was, though, Lancer was faster, managing to evade the attack by jumping backwards again.

_Tch. Almost._

" – the hell? You got a death wish or something?"

_Actually, yes. In a manner of speaking_.

Lancer lunged again, though this time his approach was more cautious.

_Doesn't want to overcommit again. He'll come at an oblique angle to try and get in my blind spot._

Lancer veered to Archer's left mid-charge, hoping to flank the knight in red. Faster than the human eye could see, the lance slashed down towards Archer's neck.

Archer ducked, the spear glancing off his shoulder guard, and tensed to swing again. Predictably, Lancer disengaged again.

_Not this time_.

Lancer opened his mouth to say something, but the sword thrown at his face forced him to block instead.

_**CLANG**_

"What kind of Saber throws away his own swor-"

While Lancer was momentarily distracted, Archer rushed. Projecting a replacement for the sword he'd just thrown, he was in range before the Servant in blue could react.

_**CLANG**_

Unfortunately, Archer wasn't fast enough to land his attack before Lancer recovered, guarding against the twin swords with his spear. They were deadlocked, one trying to overpower the other, two supernatural beings locked in the most basic contest of strength there was.

Which was just as well.

"RIN! GET AWAY FROM HERE! _NOW!_"

* * *

_**Rin**_

She knew it would be dangerous. Two legends fighting to the death, an epic contest of will as the heroes of lore took to the field in a competition for the ultimate prize.

She never thought it would be so _beautiful_, though.

Sparks flew as the Servants clashed, with Archer holding his ground against Lancer's onslaught. Several times, Rin thought that her Servant was finished, only to have him dodge at the last moment and respond with an attack of his own.

She was so entranced that she was actually startled when one of the figures addressed her directly.

"RIN! GET AWAY FROM HERE! _NOW!_"

Her mind restarted. _Archer's defending you, and he can't fight effectively if you're in the way. Move!_

As she reinforced her legs and sprinted for the gate, her mind continued to work.

_How did Lancer get here so fast? Was he expecting us? And where is his Master?_

Realization hit her like a blast of cold water. Lancer had only appeared when the second boundary field was re-established.

It was almost as if it were some sort of signal.

She turned around and tried to tell Archer that it was a trap. The only thing she saw was a red lance heading straight for her.

* * *

_**Lancer**_

He was _technically_ following orders.

She said that he could prod them a little. Sticking them with his spear counted as prodding, right?

He went for the girl first, vaguely remembering her face from one of his Master's briefings. Her Servant was still in spirit form, and attacking her would be the quickest way to get him to appear.

Lancer was not disappointed. Even though he couldn't fight at his best, it was still fun.

As he dueled the mysterious red knight, who was possibly Saber, Lancer felt his blood start to boil. His opposite was a strange one: though he shouldn't have stood a chance against Lancer, he was somehow managing to keep up, matching Lancer blow for blow. It was almost as if he knew what Lancer was thinking in advance.

Lancer certainly didn't know what his opponent was thinking when he _threw_ his sword.

Whoever he was, at least Lancer knew this much: physically, this knight in red was weaker than him.

"RIN! GET AWAY FROM HERE! _NOW!_"

A holding action, huh? Lancer could appreciate that. He couldn't let it _succeed_, though – the Rin girl had worked a very naughty bit of magecraft on the school, and though his Master would be furious at him for disobeying her orders, he'd make her understand. The enemy was breaking her precious Association's rules by being so brazen, so he had to kill her to prevent exposure to the world at large.

And come on, one Master eliminated. What was there not to like?

He pushed, and the red knight jumped back to avoid the slash that never came. Instead of continuing the fight, Lancer disengaged to pursue the girl, who was dashing towards the gate.

_It's a shame, really. She's got a nice pair of legs._

* * *

_**Caster**_

Fuck. It _had_ to be her, didn't it.

Concealed by Spektrum's active camouflage, Caster watched Archer and Lancer's fight from the roof of the school. What she was currently concerned about, however, was the pigtailed magus currently gaping at them.

_Spek. Arrow configuration: Five parts grounding, one leech, one pain-inducing. 30% charge, active on impact. Reverse barb. _

Rin. A host of complicated and contradictory feelings welled up inside her before she locked them out. Caster would have preferred it if she didn't have to kill the girl, but the chance to take out two Servants and an enemy Master was a chance to good to pass up.

Besides, Zouken was probably spying on her. If she showed any mercy here, he might hurt Sakura again as "punishment". To Caster, _that_ was unforgivable.

Rin started to run. Caster hoped she would draw the other two Servants – Lancer and Archer, according to Partition 1B – away from the school building and give Caster an optimal firing solution. She _could_ fire while the two Servants dueled right below her, but her chances of fighting them off if her first strike didn't kill them both were slim (less than 1%, or "statistically insignificant", according to 1A). Why risk it?

Lancer peeled off, angling for Rin. Archer threw his sword, which managed to deflect the spear before it could connect. Caster released a breath she didn't realize she was holding.

… _dammit._

Archer and Lancer continued their duel. Rin tried to get away, but Lancer managed to keep up as he fought off Archer's increasingly desperate assault.

_[1A: Archer disarmed for the 27__th_ _time.]_

_[Twob: If you're going to shoot, now's the time. They're clumped up, 76 meters away, and almost to the gate. Can't really get more ideal than that.]_

_[III A: Now that I see him again, it looks like he's… projecting. Projecting _swords_. Is he…?]_

No. She couldn't wait any longer. The time for hesitation had passed a long time ago.

_[Twoa: Deactivating tapetum lucidum in right eye. Adjusting shape for maximum visual acuity at 76 meters.]_

_[iii b: ow.]_

Caster felt her right eye throb as it changed configuration. Eyes that weren't her "natural" eye color always degraded faster, though this particular color usually lasted longer than this. It looked like she would have to replace it soon.

_Don't pay it any mind. Focus._

Her mind cleared, her body relaxed. Her focus was only on the target.

After breaking off again, Archer threw several pairs of his strange black-and-white swords at Lancer, enclosing the blue Servant in a whirlwind of spinning steel. The whole time, the red knight seemed to be chanting something.

She took one of the seven barbed arrows Spektrum had made and drew it past her right ear, her composite _yumi_ taut at full draw.

The two Servants stopped fighting for a moment. Archer projected more menacing versions of his favorite weapons, while Lancer took a wide stance and started drawing in mana to his cursed spear. Rin was shouting. All of them were standing still.

"Listen to me! It's a tr-"

Caster took aim and fired three arrows in quick succession. Her last arrow was for Rin.

* * *

They were staring each other down, both preparing to end the fight in a single, decisive blow.

Archer: "_Crane Wing –_"

Lancer: "_Gae –_"

They felt it at the same time.

Lancer had the benefit of Protection from Arrows, a skill he'd had since birth. He heard the arrow and cancelled his attack to bat it away, blocking the flying swords that came at him next almost as an afterthought.

Archer had the benefit of being an _archer_. He noticed a familiar shape coming towards him, illuminated by the light of the full moon, and dodged out of the way.

Rin didn't have the benefit of anything, and was thus surprised mid-sentence when the arrow took her in the collarbone.

"Guh -" was all she could say before the binding spell in the arrow pinned her to the ground.

* * *

_**Caster**_

She could see how Archer had dodged the arrow – it was his specialty, after all – but she couldn't figure out how _Lancer_ had seen it coming. Evidently, her knowledge about his capabilities was far from complete.

Lancer started dashing towards the building. The same building she was currently standing on.

_Shit! Did he see me? Spek, change to combat configuration: ambush._

_:: Ready in 10._

She jumped off the rooftop and prepared for the worst.

* * *

_**Lancer**_

His eyes traced the arrow's path back to its point of origin, but all Lancer could see was a fence and a slight… distortion.

Archer ran to help his fallen Master, but by then Lancer was interested something far more important.

There, staring out from a ground floor window, was a hooded boy looking on awe and terror.

* * *

_**Rin**_

The moon looked red tonight. Crimson, almost. That was probably because of the pain, though.

Pain. So much pain. She tried to think of better words to describe it, but the pain was too much, and she stopped trying.

"Rin! Stay with me! RIN!"

Someone was yelling at her. Someone wearing red. He was shaking her.

"… stop that. Just wanna… wanna sleep…"

"Get a hold of yourself! You can't let _this _beat you! You're a Tohsaka, aren't you?!"

Toh… sa… ka? That's right… that's who she was, wasn't it.

"Damn… straight… *cough* D… don't you… forget it…"

She felt something get pressed into her hand. Many somethings.

"Listen. You were struck by an arrow. It looks like it barely missed your subclavian, but you're still in shock and losing blood. I can remove the arrow, but you'll have to heal yourself. Do you understand me?"

Healing? She didn't need any healing. All she needed was to go home, have Archer make her a cup of tea, and maybe take a nice long bath –

A burst of vivid pain. Someone tugged on the _thing_ that was sticking up into the sky. She vaguely thought that it wasn't supposed to be there.

"Dammit. Looks like it's stuck to the ground."

It hurt. She didn't like things that hurt. Where was Archer? He could tell this person to stop hurting her.

"S-stop that."

_Splurk_

Rin screamed as Archer pulled her off the arrow. The meter-long shaft was barbed in exactly the wrong direction.

She couldn't think. She couldn't breathe. She couldn't feel. All she could picture was a dagger piercing her heart, a shoulder knitting itself back together.

"_HEILEN!"_

She shouted a word in a language she didn't recognize, drew power from the jewels she held in her hand, then passed out of the cold, hard ground.

* * *

_**Shirou**_

He ran for his life. Tearing through the hallways of the empty school, Shirou regretted that he chose to pass up track for the archery team. At the time, it had seemed more practical, given his desire to become a hero of justice.

Now, pursued by a being that was more powerful than he could ever have imagined, he wished that he could just go back in time and beat himself silly.

"Tch. You're a slippery one, I'll give you that."

The voice was right behind him. Shirou made a hard left and veered into a classroom, slamming the door behind him. When the man in blue kicked it open, Shirou had almost made it to the windows.

_Almost – there - ! _

A kicked desk caught him squarely in the back and knocked him out of the window with a loud _crash_. Covered in lacerations and breathing heavily, he rolled over. At least he'd go out facing his death.

"Sorry, kid, but the rules say no witnesses. I promise I'll make it quick."

The man seemed almost regretful, but Shirou could feel him drawing in a massive amount of mana, concentrating it in that blood-red spear of his.

"Nothing personal."

As the spear ripped through his heart, Shirou wondered why dying had to hurt so much.

* * *

_**Archer**_

She got up. Inside, Archer breathed a sigh of relief.

"How long was I out?"

"Only a couple minutes. I must say, that was an impressive piece of work, Master."

Rin smiled groggily, and tested out her shoulder. She winced once or twice, but for the most part it looked functional.

"Of course it was. I _am_ a magus of the Tohsaka family, after all."

"Believe me, I was sorely tempted to tell you that you were an Einzbern. Or maybe a Matou."

She bristled. "Don't even _joke_ about that sort of – "

There was a loud _crash_ as a window broke somewhere. Though she had only just woken up, Rin started sprinting towards the source of the sound.

"Where's Lancer?"

"He went into the building you're running towards. The one we should probably be running _away_ from?"

She didn't listen. Sighing, Archer retraced Kanshou and Byakuya and took off after his headstrong Master.

* * *

_**Rin**_

Part of her told her that she was making a huge mistake. Part of her told her that what she was doing was probably exactly what Lancer and his unknown friend wanted.

She didn't care, because most of her _really_ wanted to get the bastard who shot her.

In a flash, Archer was right beside her. "Master, I really don't think we should be doing this."

She ignored him. "When Lancer got here, did you feel anyone else come with him?"

"No. Why?"

_Stupid, stupid, stupid! Lancer was just a decoy._

"You weren't supposed to. This was a trap, and we fell for it like a couple of idiots. Whoever set it up was probably trying to take us both out at the same time, but since you managed to avoid it, Lancer retreated to regroup with his partner."

"I see. So why are you _following_ them?"

"Because they probably don't expect us to recover this fast. _I_ certainly didn't. If we catch up to them _now_, we might be able to catch them off guard and get in a little sneak attack of our own."

They were close to the source of the sound. Rin checked her pockets to see how many of her saved-up jewels she had left, and found that she only had three left. She must've used most of them reconstructing her shoulder.

_Dammit. Sometimes I'm too good for my own good._

Three wasn't going to be enough. She needed something _big_. It looks like she was going to have to use it after all.

_I just hope it'll be worth it_.

Pulling out her pendant, she rounded the corner with Archer, and saw…

A pool of blood, most of it spilling from a single wound.

A body covered in cuts and surrounded by broken glass, with a hole where the heart should be.

A face she recognized.

"… … … Shirou?"

* * *

_**Lancer**_

He was back on patrol, only this time he was pissed.

Sure, that Saber guy seemed to be confused as to what class he was actually supposed to be, but at least he had the courage to fight head-on. Lancer could respect that.

What he couldn't respect was some conniving snit shooting at him in the dark, interrupting his duel, and distracting him with an innocent bystander to escape without even having the courtesy to show himself.

Then again, he didn't expect much more from an Archer anyways.

There. To the right, a familiar distortion moving down a side road. Lancer changed course and started his pursuit.

* * *

_**Shirou**_

He woke up. That, in and of itself, surprised him.

_Wasn't I dead?_

He looked down at his torso. Though his sweater was shredded and covered in blood, the skin underneath was perfectly smooth. It was almost as if he had never been sliced up by glass and stabbed in the heart at all.

_Huh._

Someone had saved him. Shirou wished he could thank them and tell them they should've saved someone else instead. He wouldn't have minded: it's the job of a hero to be selfless, after all.

The moonlight glinted off of something beside him.

_A pendant?_

He picked it up, and heard a rapid series of explosions. Clearly, the night wasn't over just yet.

* * *

_**Caster**_

The modified claymores went off. They were extremely effective anti-personnel mines with an effective range of 50 meters, covering a 60-degree arc with 700 steel balls (replaced with charged gems) propelled at a speed of 1,200 meters per second.

_[1A: Confirmed miss.]_

Lancer _outran_ them.

_This is getting ridiculous_.

The space Lancer just occupied exploded as the gems detonated. It didn't slow down the blue Servant at all. In fact, he was _accelerating_.

_[1A: Contact in 3.2 seconds.]_

_Dammit, Spek! Close-combat! NOW!_

_:: 5.4 seconds! Sorry!_

Crap, crap, crap.

_Is long-range interdiction still in your boot memory?_

_:: Yeah, 0.9 seconds._

_DO IT._

He was getting closer, and judging by the murder on his face he wasn't here to say hello.

_:: Ready!_

_[1A: 2.2 seconds.]_

_Arrow config: All parts really, really thick! Full charge, detonate on command! NOW!_

Her camouflage dropped as Spek devoted all its energy to projecting the arrows. It wasn't really helping anymore.

Lancer's eyes widened in anticipation. "There you are."

He lunged.

_[1A: 0.7 seconds.]_

_:: Here!_

Caster grabbed an arrow in each hand. They looked more like meter-long spikes, really.

_[1A: Contact.]_

* * *

_**Lancer**_

_**CLANG**_

_Not again._

The woman had blocked him with a pair of funny-looking arrows that she pulled out of nowhere. Considering the way this night had been shaping up so far, Lancer really shouldn't have been surprised.

"So _now _you want to fight fair? Better late than never, I guess."

She threw an arrow at him (_again_ with the throwing?) while dashing into the forest behind the school. He dodged it easily, but was a bit surprised when it exploded next to him. He was thrown into the trees lining the road.

_Damn that sneaky, underhanded…_

Lancer resumed his pursuit. Whoever she was – Archer, he presumed – she was getting on his nerves more and more. While she was fast, he was much faster.

But god_damn_ if she wasn't hard to follow.

While he could easily dodge all the exploding arrow-spikes that came at him, she seemed to have an endless amount of them, and was throwing them in a fashion that cut off all his approach paths and forced him to keep his distance.

Her erratic movements weren't helping much, either, as her variable speed and rapid course changes caused him to almost lose her several times. It was infuriating: if he went too quickly, he would overshoot when she changed course, and if he went too slowly, she would suddenly get a burst of speed from out of nowhere.

He always said that he preferred pursuing troublesome women – after all, the harder the chase, the sweeter the goal. Now, though, he was finding that his enjoyment dwindled the more _literal_ the chase became.

The irony was not lost on him.

Dammit. It would be so much simpler if he could just throw _Gae Bolg_ at her, but that option was unavailable at this time, courtesy of his Master. Truthfully, Lancer wasn't all that surprised: it figured that his cursed luck with the women he liked and the women he wanted dead would only serve to reinforce each other..

Ah well. After several frustrating minutes, she seemed to tire slightly, and a hole opened in her wall of explosions. Lancer dashed through, and after a few close calls he was finally in range. No harm in revealing himself to a dead woman, right?

"_Gae –"_

Wait. In the distance. Was that…?

For the second time that night, Lancer's fight was interrupted by the sight of a hooded boy running away.

"Fuck!"

* * *

_**Caster**_

"_Gae_ – Fuck!"

Caster was certain she didn't hear that correctly.

"Excuse me?"

Lancer was standing in the middle of the road, eyes focusing on something far away.

"What the hell? I was _certain_ that I killed that guy!"

Caster followed his gaze, reshaping her eyes again. She could barely make out the form of a boy, wearing a tattered sweater and running for his life.

"Dammit. I promised him I'd make it quick, too."

The boy turned a corner and disappeared from view. Exasperated by something, Lancer turned to her.

"Listen. I really, really, _really_ don't like you, but I don't have the time to deal with you right now. I gave the kid my word that I'd kill him, and I really can't let him get away. No witnesses and all that."

Huh. A sense of obligation. She could find a use for that.

"Tell you what. I'll let you go tonight, and tomorrow we continue where we left off. Sound good?"

Ordinarily, Caster would have agreed just to get him off her tail, but she could feel the telltale signs of a _geis_ in his words. She had bad memories of those, and of Irish things in general.

She _could_ refuse, but he might just decide to continue fighting after all. Considering the condition her body was in, that probably wouldn't end well for her.

So, she tried something else: a counter-offer.

"While that _does_ sound tempting, are you sure you'll be able to catch up to the boy before becomes a liability? For all you know, he could be messaging all his friends about the crazy things he saw tonight."

_Spek. Close combat and _Licht_s. In case things don't pan out._

_:: Roger._

Lancer's eyes narrowed. "Speed's not a problem."

"Evidently. Your problem is one of _finding_ him. He's more than a couple of kilometers away by now, and your chances of catching up to him are pretty low, even with your speed."

"I have tracking runes."

"Because you _obviously_ thought to leave one on a corpse in the off chance that it would miraculously come back to life and run off again. You're not a Dead Apostle, right?"

"… I have good eyes."

"That won't help much if he's in a house."

"I'll search them."

"Sure. Because a man in a blue leotard with an evil-looking spear crashing through a bunch of houses is _definitely_ not going to be witnessed by anyone."

He started to respond, then thought better of it.

_Got you._

Lancer harrumphed instead. "You got a better idea, then?"

"As a matter of fact, I do. Let me go tonight, and I'll take care of your little problem before it becomes a much bigger one."

Lancer looked like he was in physical pain. He knew he had been outmaneuvered, and tried to come up with some sort of retort.

"… looks like I don't have much of a choice, do I?"

"Not really, no."

Lancer sighed, defeated. "Fine. Bring him down and you can leave. It's a deal."

She smiled as she felt the _geis_ bind them both to their word. Specifically, to the words Lancer had just said.

_Spek, recall the _Licht_s and go to long-range interdiction._

"Watch closely, tights boy. You're in for a show."

* * *

_**Shirou**_

He'd been running for almost four kilometers straight before he had to stop.

Panting heavily and leaning on a utility pole, Shirou looked around, and started to relax. He didn't see his blue-haired killer anywhere, and felt that he was far enough away from the school to start slowing down a bit. His house was right around the corner.

Shirou started to chuckle a bit. Not _hysterically_, mind you, just enough to blow off some steam. He'd just escaped death multiple times today, and the adrenaline from his panicked run was making him giddy.

Thus, he felt cheated somewhat when the pole section above him exploded and knocked him face-first into the ground.

* * *

_**Caster**_

Crouching in his tree, Lancer whistled in spite of himself. "Man, but I'll be damned if that wasn't a good shot."

_[Twoa: Careful. Right eye's about to give out, and you've only got a few more shots in your right shoulder, to say nothing of your legs. That sprint really did a number on you.]_

_[iii b: right eye at 13%. it hurts a _lot_. right shoulder, arm at 57%. legs are pretty much gone, at maybe 4% average.]_

Caster wasn't surprised. She could reach out pretty far if she had to, but even so, three kilometers was _really_ pushing it, especially since her body was about to fall apart. She had to use all her reinforcement circuits to enhance her right eye and arm to be able to get the range necessary, something that she did only out of necessity.

She tried to use her Magic Circuits as little as possible these days.

"I don't get it, though. Why did you hit the part of the pole _above_ him, instead of hitting him _directly?_"

"These rules say no witnesses or suspicious evidence, right? It's going to be hard to explain away a crater in the middle of a sidewalk with no obvious cause. If there's a reason – say, a blown transformer – people will be more likely to accept it at face value, no matter how far-fetched it is."

She didn't say that it was also because hitting a sprinting human, in profile, at 3 kilometers, was not possible for her. Hell, it probably wasn't possible for _anyone_, living or dead. Hitting stationary power fixtures was a lot more reasonable.

_Spek. Boost the charge a little. The concussive effects aren't good enough._

_:: Sure thing._

The hooded form got up again and kept running. Caster sighted in on the next valid target – another pole-mounted transformer – and fired. The figure was knocked down again, but he still got up.

_Tch. He's a persistent one._

She hit a ground-based transformer on her next shot, and for a moment she thought he was down. But no, he still managed to pull himself up. He seemed to catch on to what she was doing, because he ran out into the middle of the street.

_Perfect_. _Spek, give me a woodcutter._

She fired two arrows. The first arrow sliced through a utility pole, causing it to fall right in front of the boy. The next one caused the now-grounded transformer to detonate.

He didn't get up this time.

She faced Lancer. "I've held up my end of the bargain."

Lancer scowled. "So you have. Where are you going now?"

Caster beamed at him. "How cute. It seems I charmed him with my feminine wiles."

Lancer snorted. "As if. I wouldn't touch you with a seven-meter sarissa. Just thought I'd see if I could figure out where I could find you later. You know, so I can finish you off."

"Well, I'm off to 'confirm' the kill and clean up a bit, if you know what I mean."

He did, if that grimace was any indication.

_Spek. Explosive propulsion time. Shaped prana bursts for stealth. I really don't feel like running anymore._

"Hey Archer. You saw me duel that Saber who didn't know how to fight properly, right? As much as I dislike you, at least _you_ know what you're supposed to be doing, even if you are underhanded about it. "

Caster paused for a second, then smiled a wicked smile.

_On second thought, high-explosive for extreme visibility. Give me some shiny magical leg protection too, while you're at it. _

She blasted herself into the air, laughing as she went. The look on Lancer's face was priceless.

* * *

_**Lancer**_

Lancer rubbed his head, disentangled himself from the bushes he'd fallen into, and screamed:

"AM I THE ONLY ONE IN THIS FUCKING WAR WHO DOES WHAT THEY'RE _SUPPOSED_ TO?!"


	5. Chapter 4: Disjunction

**Chapter 4: Disjunction**

**Saturday, 2/2 – Evening**

_**Sakura**_

That night, she dreamt of a simpler time, a memory of when she was young.

She saw him while leaving school one day: a young boy on the field, dashing towards the high jump bar.

Time and time again, he tried to soar. Time and time again, the laws of physics refused to cooperate with him, and he was sent tumbling to the ground far short of his goal. It didn't seem to register, though, as he would just get up and try again.

Never mind that he was covered in scrapes and bruises. Never mind that no one was around to see him struggle. Never mind that it was a hopeless endeavor, with the bar set far too high for a boy of his age. All he wanted was to reach it, regardless of what it would do to him.

It was the most stupid, inspiring, and saddening thing she had ever seen. Stupid, in that he was aiming for something that he had no chance of reaching. Inspiring, in that he did it anyway, with an iron determination that rejected the very idea of giving up. Saddening, in that she could never replicate that courage, no matter how badly she wished she could.

It would be useless to her anyways. Such resolve would only be broken by Grandfather's relentless "treatments", with pain being the only thing to show for it. She could only watch him from afar, like a moth to a lantern flame: close enough to be illuminated by his light, but separate enough to avoid being burned by the intensity of the very radiance she craved.

She watched him for a long time.

* * *

_**Caster**_

_[Twoa: Yay! Meninges time! Though coup-contrecoup injuries usually make them all bloody and sticky…]_

_[III A: Really, I'm not sure why you made that psychopathic comment to Lancer back there. It's not like you need to do circuit extractions anymore.]_

_[Twob: Because it was funny?]_

Her mind had a point. Cleaning up wasn't technically part of the bargain , and spiritual dissections were no longer necessary now that she had a more direct way to achieve her objective.

Force of habit? Paranoia about the conditions of the _geis_? The last vestiges of her moral compass, telling her to at least look at the face of the person she'd just killed? It didn't really matter to her anymore, and pursuing that line of thought would only distract her from what was actually important. She wanted to, so she did.

Besides, feeling sorry for yourself never brought anyone back from the dead. She had tried that already.

_[1B: Hate to interrupt my own little introspection, but... he's moving again.]_

… _what?_

Sure enough, the boy _was_ moving, in the sort of panicked limp reserved for the wounded who found themselves on the wrong side of a battlefield. He definitely looked the part: the front of his sweater had been blown away, revealing an angry-looking burn covering his midsection, while his arms were charred raw, presumably since he had tried to shield himself. The back of his hood was stained red with blood, and the blood running from his back indicated that he had sustained abrasions from when he skidded along the asphalt. Given the evident physical damage and myriad internal injuries he must be suffering from (severe concussion, pneumothorax in one or both lungs, etc.), it was amazing that he could even _stand_, much less move.

_This guy doesn't know how to give up, does he?_

_[iii b: said the kettle to the pot.]_

She could let him go. Any of his attempts to inform the world about tonight's events would probably be written up as trauma-induced hallucinations, assuming he even survived the night. Really, the probability of him being an information leak was essentially zero.

Besides, Lancer had never said anything about ensuring he _stayed_ down.

…

_Spek. Arrow configuration: All astral severing. Full charge. Let's make it quick. _

_:: … are you __**sure**_ _about this?_

_It's not a problem, right? You should have enough space for that inscription, now that we don't have to apply all those long-range compensation spells anymore._

_:: I was talking about the fact that we still want to kill him. What's with the bloodlust all of a sudden? It's not like us._

Bloodlust? No, it definitely wasn't that.

She had spared the lives of strangers before. Saved them, even. That always came back to haunt her.

It was more than that, though. For whatever reason, it seemed that the impossible was a regular occurrence for her. She had done things that were considered undoable, had had things happen to her that were too preposterous to even _think_ about planning for. Though the likelihood of the boy becoming a problem was pretty much nil, the likelihood of her being able to relive this War was _also_ pretty much nil, and look how that turned out.

True, it was not a statistically robust pattern. But could she let this boy go, on the off chance that doing so would somehow destroy her plans, sabotage her ability to save _them_ when she had the opportunity? Was the possibility of losing _him_ again worth it when weighed against the life of an innocent bystander?

She didn't need to think about it.

_:: … alright then. _

Of course it wasn't.

* * *

_**Shirou**_

Shirou was in awe of his hood's tenacity. Despite everything that had happened, it was still stuck to his head. The matted blood probably helped.

He was in pain. That went without saying.

He was jogging, somehow. It took all his concentration just to stay upright.

_Why am I running again?_

He wasn't really sure. Something about bright spears and red lights or something. His memories were fuzzy. His mind, swirling about in a disorienting fashion, didn't seem to know that it was supposed to stay inside his skull.

_Stop that_.

He nearly did. Running, that is. But for some reason, he kept going. It was as if something was _pulling_ him home.

Home. Right. He wanted to get home. But why run? He was only a couple of meters from his house. Surely he didn't have to run when it was so close. In his current state, he was more likely to trip and fall on his face, and he really didn't want that for some reason.

_FssssssssSSSSSSS_

That sounded familiar. It also sounded _wrong_, like it was supposed to be moving _away_ from him instead of _towards _-

The arrow hitting the wall directly in front of him was enough to make Shirou remember exactly why he was running.

* * *

_**Caster**_

_[iii b: GAAAAAAAAAAAAH! FUCK!]_

_[Twoa: I think what threebie here is trying to say is that you just blew out your right rhomboid muscle.]_

That would definitely explain why she missed.

Dammit. Such an easy target, too: a slowly moving human 500 meters out. She only missed by a couple of centimeters, but that was more than enough.

_**Boom**_

The arrow self-destructed. The blast wasn't as powerful as that of dedicated explosive arrows, but it still would've had a concussive effect if he was close enough. Of course, by the time it detonated, he was already far enough away to avoid being stunned. Naturally.

_Is my right arm in good enough condition to hold the bow?_

_[Twoa: Probably, if you don't mind threebie hating you even more.]_

_When have I ever?_

_[iii b: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH! AAAH! GODDAMN IT!]_

She switched the bow to her right hand and drew with her left, a direct violation of the _kyudo_ method she'd learned. Her right arm was slightly shaky, which explained the dramatic increase of her circular error probable. Still, she still had a 74% chance to hit from this range, now 400 meters out. Since she had six arrows left, this virtually guaranteed that at least one of them would hit. For this particular arrow type, one hit was all she needed.

Sight in. Relax. There is nothing but the target. All she could see was the target.

The moment before she released the arrow, all she could see was red.

_[iii b: __**AAAAAUGH! FUCK! FUCK! AAAAAH!**__]_

_[Twoa: That was your right eye going bye-bye.]_

She opened her left eye. The arrow had gone extremely wide, missing the target completely and embedding itself in a familiar-looking doorway.

Feelings of frustration welled up before she locked them out. Under normal circumstances, she wouldn't have lost track of her body condition like that. This wasn't like her.

Wait. Speaking of losing track of important things, wasn't that the door to –

_**Boom**_

The boy barged through the explosively-unlocked gates to the Emiya estate and made for the house.

…

Shirou's house.

…

_Shirou._

In an instant, her mental walls were temporarily overwhelmed by the parts of her consciousness she'd been repressing, a torrent of memories, personality fragments, and pent-up emotions: nostalgia and grief and resolve and madness and ecstasy and _need_ and _pain_ and _sorrow_ and _loneliness_ and _**rage**_ and _**joy**_ and _**emptiness**_ and _**hope**_ and _**hopelessness**_ and _**LOVE**_ and _**HATE **_and _**WHY DID YOU HAVE TO **_–

While Caster's core partition, the seat of her personality and final authority on all her decisions, tried to re-contain this mess, her subpartitions continued to work, shielded from the mental turmoil.

_[1A: Target has entered se – Emiya residence grounds.]_

_[1B: Still can't get a positive ID on him. Damn that hoodie. How is that hood still up?]_

_[Twoa: OHMYGOD CAN WE PLEASE FOLLOW HIM? PLEASE PLEASE PLEAS – oh, but Shirou might not like having to clean up a dead body…]_

_[Twob: Hah! This is convenient. After we take this kid out, we'll be in the perfect place to prevent Saber from being summoned. Sometimes, life just works out all right.]_

_[III A: … I think we should call off the attack and see what happens. Isn't anyone else getting a really bad feeling about all this?]_

_[iii b: YES, IF PAIN COUNTS AS A "BAD FEELING".]_

It took a couple of seconds for her to get her mind back under control, an eternity for someone running on constant thought acceleration. To help her refocus, she asked herself a simple question.

_Why did he go in there?_

It was a coincidence, nothing more. The desperate boy simply wanted to find a place of safety, and when the opportunity arose, he seized it. She couldn't fault his choice, as the Emiya house was better than most. Thankfully, it was unlikely that he had more than a passing acquaintance with the proprietor, since Shirou wasn't the most social person over the course of his short life.

It would be a problem if Shirou woke up, though: it would be just like him to take in a nearly-dead stranger appearing out of the darkness of the night. While it would be easy enough to wipe his memory, _any _action she took towards him would only increase the danger he was in, as she was sure Zouken was monitoring her every move. Giving him more leverage than he already had wasn't something she intended to do.

Plus, she wouldn't put it past Shirou to summon Saber in defense of another, especially since she still wasn't sure _why_ Saber was summoned at all. Her original plan was almost as messed up as her eye, but she could still try to keep Shirou from entering the War.

If worst came to worst, she could always try projecting that iridescent dagger, though considering her current mental and physical status she wasn't sure if she could pull it off anymore. Additionally, her odds of actually being able to _hit_ Saber with it were not encouraging, especially when factoring in the disorientation that came with using those unique magic circuits and the poor state her body as currently in.

She could have Spek do it, though trying to rush a projection like that would likely fry the cloak's projection capabilities, which would be sorely needed in a direct confrontation with Saber. In short, having to deal with Saber would probably result in Caster's premature demise.

Better to just kill this kid now before he caused any more trouble, like going into the house or something.

_[1B: He's gone inside the house.]_

Fuck.

* * *

_**Shirou**_

He wasn't sure why he had grabbed the umbrella by the door. It just felt _good_ to hold onto something that could be a weapon. Reassuring.

Gripping it like a sword, he cautiously but quickly made his down the hall, heading for the shed out back. Shirou had no idea where his unseen assailant was, but judging from their persistence it was likely that they would be arriving on the premises at any moment. When that happened, it would be better if he was in a good hiding place, ready to ambush his attacker if they happened to find him.

He didn't know if that would do him much good, but it was better than nothing.

A cloud passed in front of the moon, cutting off the moonlight that illuminated the hallway. Although Shirou knew his home well enough to navigate by feel, it took his eyes a moment to adjust to the newborn darkness, as he didn't want to turn on the lights and give away his position.

Thus, by the time he reached the end of the hallway and noticed the holes in the ceiling and the strange looking arrows embedded in the floor behind him, it was already far too late.

_**BOOM**_

In an act of desperation, Shirou deployed the umbrella and tried to Reinforce it. To his astonishment, it worked, blocking the initial wave of projectiles.

_**BOOM**_

It was also somewhat useful against the secondary explosions, though it did nothing to absorb his new backwards momentum. Again, Shirou felt weightless as he was hurled backwards.

_**CRASH**_

He wasn't having much luck with windows tonight.

* * *

_**Caster**_

The boy was blasted through one of the sliding glass doors, tumbled a bit, and landed face-down in the yard. For some odd reason, he was holding an open umbrella.

_[Twob: Hah! We should call that one the "Rainmaker"! Makes glass fly and people cry! And reach for their umbrellas. Sounds a lot better than 'Arrow Configuration: 3 parts woodcutter, 3 parts launcher: claymore, gem, 1 part scanning', anyway.]_

_[1B: … Twob, sometimes your horrible names make _me _want to cry.]_

_[iii b: IF WE STILL HAD TEAR DUCTS, THAT'S WHAT I'D MAKE US DO ALL THE TIME.]_

Well, there was no way that Shirou wasn't awake now. She only had a couple seconds before he came investigating.

_Spek, rewrite the remaining long-range arrows we have for pure explosive power. Full charge. I don't trust my aim right now, so might as well make it a non-issue._

_:: First one ready in a second. _

She was only 100 or so meters from the house and descending rapidly. Her trajectory would put her right next to the holes she'd made with the woodcutters (modified to punch through tile), where Spek could reconnect with the arrows she'd fired inside to monitor Shirou's position.

_[III A: No one else finds it odd that he got into the house in the first place? Or that the lights are still out, even though Shirou should be home by now?]_

Ugh. III A was being nitpicky again. That subpartition was invaluable when dealing with all things magical, but its constant criticisms and general negativity could be quite grating at times.

The form on the ground started moving again. At this point, she wasn't surprised that he had just survived two miniature, arrow-mounted claymores at point-blank range.

Of course, that's why she currently had an extremely powerful gem-arrow nocked and ready to fire.

_[1A: III A has a point. It is unlike Shirou to leave the doors to his house unlocked if he is away, and there are no signs of forced entry in the front of the house.]_

The boy got up. She fired. A bell rang.

_[1B: Wait. Doesn't the Emiya residence's bounded field only respond to those with malicious intent towards its _residents_? Does the house consider the kid a guest, even though Shirou hasn't invited him in yet?]_

As she landed on the roof, a large explosion consumed the yard. No matter how tenacious he was, it was unlikely that the boy could've survived that unassisted.

_Spek. That connection?_

Her mind was entertaining some funny ideas. They were ideas that pointed to a ludicrous conclusion.

The boy couldn't be Shirou.

No, it was impossible. All she needed to do to disprove it was to wait for Spek to confirm his presence in the house, and everything would be fine.

_[Twoa: But it would be just like him to stay late and do some stupid job at school to help someone out, even if it meant staying long after classes ended. Wouldn't it?]_

Well, yes, it would. But it couldn't be Shirou.

_[iii b: WHY NOT?]_

Because it was impossible.

_[iii b: WHAT WAS THAT THING YOU SAID ABOUT THE IMPOSSIBLE AGAIN?]_

_:: There's no one inside._

No.

_Scan again!_

_:: I already did! Five times! There's __**no one there!**_

_**AGAIN!**_

_[Twoa: M-maybe he's in the shed?]_

The boy had survived, and was running for the old, definitely _locked_ shed. He left behind a tattered umbrella.

His hoodie had finally given out, and though his back was to her, she could clearly see his rust-red hair before he unlocked the door to the storehouse and disappeared inside.

But it couldn't be, right? Right? That was just… dried blood! Even though dried blood is usually brown or black.

And he probably just stole that key. The key to the old shed? The key that only Shirou… should… have…

She terminated that line of thought and jumped off the roof to follow him.

* * *

_**Sakura**_

It was the chance of a lifetime.

He'd been burned, his shoulder broken. Since he lived alone, it would be tough for him to cook and clean with only his left arm.

So she became his right.

He was reluctant, at first. But she had learned something of persistence from him, and eventually he gave in. The day he had accepted her into his life was one of the happiest moments of her own.

He came to love her as something like a sister, and that was fine with her. She had never expected her crazy scheme to work, never believed that she would be able to bask in his light every single day. Like they always said in those stories, it was like a dream come true.

And deep in her subconscious, past the pain and exhaustion and self-loathing, she dared to wish for something even grander. Maybe, in time, his love might grow and blossom into something that could match or exceed her own. It was a wild, selfish, impossible wish, because while time was all she needed, her time was slowly running out.

But even if that dream never came to pass, she'd always remember that time, the days when she first felt hope. That life she spent with him, with the boy who seemed to shine like a star, would be forever woven in the fabric of her soul.

Deep in sleep, Sakura smiled. It would be nice if all her dreams could be like this one.

* * *

_**Shirou**_

With a groan, the door slammed shut. The umbrella had finally given up on that last attack, and it had taken his shoulder with it. Cradling the dislocated joint, Shirou wondered why his attacker didn't just make a blast that large in the first place. It certainly would've saved them both a lot of trouble.

Though his body was as torn up as his clothing, his mind seemed to get clearer. Was he just getting better at ignoring pain? He'd certainly gone through a crash course in pain tolerance up until now, and maybe it was finally starting to pay dividends.

Not that it would make a difference. He would die in this dark, lonely place, with a crater in the floor being the only proof that Emiya Shirou had ever existed.

He was disturbed by that thought, though not for the reasons one might expect. He held no fear of death, as that had been burned out of him long ago. No, what he feared was the failure to become that which he aspired to.

He would die without having the chance to live his dream.

_Dammit._

He wouldn't be missed by anyone, much. Except for Issei. And Taiga. And Sakura. And maybe Shinji.

_DAMMIT._

Is that all he would be remembered as? A lonely orphan, who entertained childish dreams of becoming a hero? One swallowed by the night, mourned by few, and forgotten by the world at large?

_**DAMMIT.**_

No. He couldn't die here. He had people to save. How could he do that if he couldn't even save himself?

"DAMMIT, I –"

His mind was sharp. His survival was possible, obtainable, _necessary_. If he died here, those who called for a hero would die unanswered. If he died here, those who could've been saved would face their end without hope, just like him.

If he died here, he wouldn't be able to face Kiritsugu in the next life.

" – WON'T DIE MEANINGLESSLY –"

If only he had a sword.

" – WHEN I HAVE SO MUCH LEFT TO DO!"

* * *

_**Caster**_

In their panic, her partition subdivisions collapsed. She was grateful for the immediate reduction in thought volume.

_[1: We have to pull back! There's no way you could have known that it was Shirou until recently. The plan is no longer salvageable, but if we leave _now _we'll at least be able to prevent –]_

She turned off Partition 1. It was no longer being impartial.

_[Two: This can't be happening. He's not dead again, right? Right? Oh god, we have to –] _

She turned off Partition Two. It was no longer helpful in this situation.

_[III: I could try to make you feel some remorse, but honestly you're doing a much better job than I ever could right now.]_

She turned off Partition III. It was now redundant.

Now, she was alone – at least, inside her head. Her mind was blank and intensely focused, if only because she would suffer a complete mental breakdown otherwise. All she wanted was to see the face of the boy she'd almost killed, to confirm that it was the same boy she had spent her life trying to save.

The wind had picked up, and there was a characteristic buildup of astral energy inside the shed that could only indicate one thing: a summoning was taking place.

She hesitated briefly, then resumed moving towards the shed. Since Spektrum was now pouring all its resources into interfering with her movement, Caster had to fight for every step. Between that and the damage her legs had suffered during Lancer's pursuit, the best she could manage was a brisk walk.

_:: Stop! Going in there won't accomplish anything! Do you __**want**_ _to die?!_

Three meters away. Two meters. One.

_:: You'll be their __**enemy**_ _if they see you! Is that what you want to be?_

She was right at door. She tried to move her arm to open it, but it wasn't responding.

_:: No! You're not thinking straight! You're not thinking __**at all!**_

_Confirm: Core partition override of Spektrum emergency possession functionality._

_:: Dammit, LISTEN TO ME!_

She grabbed the handle.

_:: PRISM!_

Her old title, and what now served as her last name. She paid it no mind.

She pulled once. The rusted door didn't budge.

_:: TOMATO TOHMATOU!_

Ordinarily, that particular nickname definitely would've gotten her attention. These circumstances were far from ordinary, though.

She pulled harder. The door gave slightly as a gust of air escaped from _inside_ the shed.

_:: __**SAKURA!**_

The door opened, and her worst fears were confirmed.

"… no."

* * *

A flash of light, a shining knight, and the voice of his salvation.

"I ask of you, are you my Master?"

He had called, and hope had answered.

...

...

...

...

...

...

...

The same could not be said for her.


	6. Chapter 5: Chance Encounters

**Chapter 5: Chance Encounters**

**Saturday, 2/2 – Evening **

_**Spektrum**_

She was far, far gone, at least for the moment. That shock led to the catastrophic failure of her mental safeguards, which meant that the person known as Sakura Prism was once again trapped in the nightmare that was herself.

Ah well. That's why she had made Spektrum in the first place.

_:: Core partition compromised. Revoking earlier manual override: Spektrum emergency possession protocol now in effect. Activating partitions remotely... done._

Saber was standing right in front of her,. though thankfully her back was still turned. Getting away in one piece was still possible, assuming Spek could regain control of Caster's body fast enough.

_[1A: Emiya Shirou confirmed as Saber's Master. Calculating optimal escape vector. Initiating astralization, ETA 7 minutes. Any faster is not recommended.]_

_[1B: Reestablishing mental divide... it'll take a little while.]_

_[Twoa: Shunting pain reception to Core partition to see if we can't shock her back. We only have a couple seconds of full-burn left in this body, so make it count.]_

_[Twob: Dammit, we're _way _too close to Saber for comfort. Assuming close-quarters battle configuration, but if it comes to that...]_

_[III A: Circuit lock override: connecting all magic circuit batteries now.] _

_[iii b: … i'll try to pull her out of this mess. stand by.]_

As soon as Caster's magic circuits were reactivated, Saber shifted her left foot backward. Doubtless the sudden astral presence materializing behind her caught her attention in the worst way possible.

_:: Oh, shit._

The knight pivoted on her back foot, turned to face her opponent, and crouched.

_:: Twoa, can the legs take a propulsive blast unreinforced?_

_[Twoa: Probably not.]_

With agility that shouldn't be possible for one wearing full plate armour, Saber leapt forward, sword pointed at Caster's heart.

_:: Move, dammit, move!_

Spektrum tried to dodge, but since her uplink was far from complete, the body's response was too sluggish. All she could manage was a sideways jerk at the last moment.

_**SKRRT**_

Fae-forged steel pierced Caster's shoulder, and Spektrum felt its center of balance shift slightly as its right arm was removed.

_:: Detonate the arm!_

Before Saber could follow up, Spek grabbed the liberated limb with her remaining arm and touched it off. Prana flowed with a familiar crackling sensation, and Caster's form was blasted out of the shed with an eardrum-shattering _boom_, sound waves amplified by the shed's cramped interior.

_[Twoa: Why is it always the right side that gets messed up first?]_

They'd bought a little time and distance with that maneuver, at the cost of damaging the right torso even more - Spek had turned in an attempt to minimize the blast effects.. The cloak tried to reinforce that area the best it could, but at the rate that this body was failing, it was just glad that it still _had_ a body to work with.

The fact that Saber didn't follow them immediately could mean several things. Given the circumstances, it either meant that the armsplosion tactic had worked better than anticipated...

_[1A: Prana buildup detected around Saber's last known location.]_

… or that Shirou's knight in shining armor was preparing something particularly nasty.

_:: Fuck it, I'm not waiting to see what that is. We are leaving __**now**__. Propulsion charge set – prime – detonate._

The sudden lack of responsiveness in the legs probably indicated that they had been destroyed on that last jump - shattered femurs, shredded muscles, that sort of thing. Spektrum only hoped that the pain would help Sakura – help _herself_ – get back in control sooner rather than later. Apparently, being summoned as an Epic Spirit did nothing to help with astral cohesion if your soul was already falling apart, and though they'd only just arrived, they were running out of time.

Of course, it _had_ been a rather unusual summoning on their end.

_:: … good, she's not following us. 1A, stop the astralization. III A, disconnect the magic circuits – no point in falling apart after we just got away mostly intact. Twoa, prep for full body resynchronization - looks like we'll have to use that replacement we just made. We'll salvage what we can from this one after we transfer._

Spektrum rolled up her metaphorical sleeves and prepared to get messy.

* * *

_**Shirou**_

He felt an armored hand on his arm.

"-?"

He opened his eyes. It was very dusty, and all he could hear was a tinnital whine, but he could clearly see the face of the girl who had just saved his life.

It was very, _very_ close to his.

"-, - - -. - - -?"

She was saying something, but his ears were busted. He hoped the blood running to his face didn't leak out of them.

"I can't hear you." At least, that's what he _hoped_ he said.

She gave him a quizzical look, then pointed at her own ear and made a flicking motion. Shirou shook his head, and his savior seemed to understand.

"- -. - - - - - - -."

She held her hand out to him, but before he could take it her eyes widened in surprise. She turned around, holding onto what looked like a piece of air.

"- -, -. - - - - - -."

Before he could say "Wait!", she ran into the night, intensely focused on something outside.

He ran after her.

_At least let me learn your name._

* * *

"_SLOP!"_

The numerous blows to his head, coupled with his temporary deafness, did not help Shirou much in the speech department. His intentions were clear enough, though, and the design on his hand flashed red.

It was hard to tell who was more surprised: Shirou, by the fact that he was facing down the school idol outside his house at night, or Rin, by the fact that a battered and half-naked Shirou had just barged out of his house and stopped his Servant from finishing off her and Archer.

"… Christ, Emiya-kun. What the hell happened to you?"

Shirou tilted his head, as if straining to hear. "Wok?"

Saber sighed.

"Allow me to explain."

* * *

_**Zouken**_

He had sent Caster alone to put her at ease, make her more liable to show some weakness he could exploit. Unfortunately, that proved to be a mistake.

Following her was an exercise in frustration: her astral presence and prana emissions were nearly zero most of the time, as if her soul wasn't really _there_. He thought that he would be able to track her by looking for the space where there was nothing at all, but this proved to be akin to searching for the proverbial needle in the haystack.

He then tried using his own connection to Sakura. It should have been easy to detect Caster's presence that way - the astral presence of an Epic Spirit was much greater than that of any modern magus - but for some strange reason, he was unable to distinguish between the soul of the Master and the Servant. It was as if Caster's soul did not actually exist, impossible as that may be.

He was forced to resort to visual tracking, which was nightmarish since she kept disappearing and reappearing in the strangest of places. One moment, she was prancing around with that blue bodysuit-wearing Lancer in the forest, the next she was shooting _arrows_ at the Emiya boy before very nearly dying by the hands of his Servant.

Adding to his frustration, it also appeared that he overestimated her combat ability, though he _did_ notice a strange surge in her prana levels during her brief encounter with Saber. It was likely interference caused by residual prana from the summoning, but he wasn't completely sure. Something to look into later.

Thankfully, the night hadn't been a total waste. Emiya Shirou, his granddaughter's beloved, had unexpectedly summoned the seventh and final Servant. Now, the war – and his plans – could start in earnest.

He hadn't expected Caster to play along without some considerable persuading, but her extremely erratic nature could jeopardize his designs, especially since she appeared to have her own agenda. It was a shame, but it seemed that he would have to start making plans for her demise on top of preparing his trump card.

Fortunately, the latter could easily prove to be the key to accomplishing the former, and it could be started soon. Tonight, even. All he needed to do was make a small… investment.

Well, he _did_ make Rider stand watch over Sakura for a reason.

* * *

_**Sakura**_

Without warning, her dream shifted violently, and Sakura found herself in an unfamiliar place.

It was nighttime, and she was flying. Beneath her was a city in the desert, trapped in the throes of darkness. Somehow, she knew that it was a place of the dead, a nexus of the force that threatened to consume humanity and fill the resulting void with itself.

Yes, she knew it well. She had cultivated it, after all.

She was falling now, and kicked up a small dust cloud on landing. A presence that was at once familiar and alien spoke to her.

_:: The circle's complete. Waiting on you._

Everything was ready. After so many failures, she told herself that he was finally within reach again. He had to be, or else all of this suffering would have been for naught.

_:: For your sake, I hope this works. _

In the mind that was and was not her own, Sakura thought a single phrase.

**_Lux fiat._**

She ripped open the hole to her soul, and the city of shadow was consumed with light.

* * *

_**Shadow**_

It had been exceedingly tricky, but the task was done to satisfaction.

A man stood before her, dressed in clothes the color of midnight. The accessory at his neck swirled in the breeze, his only concession to ornamentation.

"… I…"

Wonderful. It had wanted to bring pain to this world, and the Shadow could not imagine a better man for the job.

"… what…"

He was disoriented. Doubtless the unconventional summoning had affected him somewhat, though he would certainly have enough time to regain his bearings. With any luck, he would be able to form complete sentences before the night was through.

"…"

The man looked in its direction.

"… I appear to be… I _am_… an Assassin. A… false one, but an Assassin nonetheless."

Good. Faster than she had expected.

"… what are your orders, Master?"

* * *

_**Kirei**_

The priest stopped dead in his tracks.

"Hm? Something wrong, Kirei?

Kotomine Kirei was an anomaly. He was a man of the void, with an abyss where his heart should be. When his old one had failed, a shadow had provided him a new one, and for that mercy he would serve that shadow with all that he was.

That he also served God as an ordained priest was not a contradiction to him at all.

Yes, he loved God, though he had no reason to. Because he had been born broken, he had spent his younger years seeking the answer to a single question: "Why was I created?" And though his search led him to the lofty heights of achievement and acclaim, he still felt that the Lord was indifferent, deaf to his prayers and blind to his suffering. Eventually, he ceased his search for meaning, for happiness, and accepted that God would not – and should not – save the man known as Kotomine Kirei, twisted as he was.

Then, 10 years ago, a messenger had appeared before him.

He did not know who had sent it. It certainly wasn't God, for it stood counterpoint to all He upheld. By rights, the Lord should have struck it down the moment it was born, as it was a thing of unsullied corruption, seeking only to bathe the world in fire.

And it had saved him.

Maybe it had been a whim, a favor from the shadow to the shade. Maybe it was the work of the Devil, a temptation to test Kirei's resolve. Maybe he had failed, and had been seduced by sin.

But what was sin, if not an emphasis to virtue? What was the Devil, if not a contrast to make God shine all the brighter? What was shadow, if not evidence of light?

In the end, in mattered little what the reason was. No, he would not be saved by God, but as recompense, Kotomine Kirei finally had purpose.

He would work to ensure the birth of the being whose emptiness mirrored his own. God would not oppose him, as not even He could condemn an existence that did not yet exist. Yes, Kirei would be there to welcome this creature without conscience, and in witnessing its descent into the evil it could not help but choose, the priest would find the answers he had spent his life searching for.

His demons would finally be silenced, once and for all.

He thought that he would have to bear this glad burden in solitude. But something had happened tonight, and he was alone no longer.

An aberration had been introduced, a distortion that threatened his purpose. It was something that had once existed but now could not, for it had been replaced. A life that should have ended, _did_ end, the moment he first found salvation.

"Heh. Was it a bad serving of that horrendous dish you always get? Such filth will only serve to blacken you further."

It was incompatible. Wrong. Every moment it drew breath was a travesty to his faith.

It wasn't that Kirei shunned companionship. If he was blessed with another helper, then he would meet them with open arms.

It wasn't that Kirei feared death. If God deemed his task depraved, his removal necessary, then he would gladly tie the noose himself.

But this… _usurper_… threatened to derail everything. It was a remnant from another time, and if allowed to persist it would be the ruin of all Kirei had worked for.

The reason was simple. It would serve, but it would not truly love its service. It would be faithful, but it would not truly have faith in its toil. It would live, yet it would never truly be alive.

It was a husk, a shell with no vitality, and would not be able to see this task through.

Why did his savior choose to save it?

"Where are you going?"

Kirei stormed upstairs. He understood now: it was a test, a trial for him to overcome. He had endured hardship to find his purpose, and would endure it again to achieve it.

In a way, he was grateful.

He had been pestered by one of the Masters from the Association for several days now, a middle-aged man who complained to Kirei about his unruly Servant, as if the Supervisor for the Holy Grail War was some sort of _babysitter_.

Before, he did not have need of another Servant. That foolish Enforcer from the Association would provide him with all the information he required, with some additional entertainment besides. Now, though, he needed a seeker, to find this mistake, and a killer, to correct it.

In short, he needed an Assassin, and after listening to his voicemails he knew exactly where to find one.

It was time to make a house call.

* * *

_**Shirou**_

"That's strange. He's not here."

They were inside the Kotomine Church, where Rin had planned to introduce him to the Supervisor, one Kotomine Kirei. He was supposed to be available at all hours, but it seems they caught him at a bad time.

"How… oddly irresponsible of him."

The girl sighed, annoyed. They'd been looking for him for a couple of minutes now, even going so far as to shout his name into the empty church. Their only response was a confused Saber checking to see if they weren't under some sort of mental attack.

Shirou cleared his throat.

"Maybe we could try calling him?"

She stared at him blankly for several seconds, and Shirou wondered if he was speaking gibberish again. He thought that he had gotten over that some time ago, but he wasn't completely sure.

Then she facepalmed.

"Oh, you mean his _phone_. O-of course. Obviously."

For the briefest of moments, Shirou thought he had heard a trace of uncertainty in her voice. It must have been his imagination, though: considering how Rin was on top of everything in her life, something as trivial as a phone call shouldn't give her any trouble.

"I, uh, forgot to bring mine. Could you lend me yours, Shirou-kun?"

That was strange. Cell phones were still relatively new, but if she had one, then it would only make sense for her to carry it with her all the time.

"Sure thing. Here you go."

Then again, she might just be having an off day. Shirou really couldn't blame her for that, considering how his own had been going so far.

She took it, flipped it open, stared at the screen, and said:

"... okay, Rin. You can do this."

He probably wasn't supposed to hear that, considering that she had muttered it to herself, but Shirou was suddenly getting a funny feeling about all of this.

"Let's see... Menu? That's right, I _did_ hear about someone ordering food using one of these before, but that's not what I want right now."

Could it be...

"What's this button do? It looks like it has a picture of a normal phone on it... oh! It must be for calling the ones that have the power cords that you plug into the wall!"

… that she had no idea what she was doing?

"Um.. what are you doing?"

Rin glared at him, mouthing the words _'I'm on the phone, you idiot!'_.

"... you're not actually calling anyone right now. Besides, you've been talking out loud this entire time."

Her face went red as she blushed, and judging by the anger that followed afterwards, his face would soon be red for a very different reason.

"I-I was about to! Besides, it's very rude to listen in on a girl's inner thoughts, even if she _is_ saying them out loud!"

He had never expected this side of her, and though he knew it was borderline suicidal to tease her any more, he couldn't help himself.

"That's surprisingly unreasonable of you, Tohsaka-san. Besides, didn't you tell me earlier that Tohsaka magi are supposed to be 'always graceful' or something? You certainly aren't being very graceful right now."

Oh, he was _definitely_ going to get it now.

"You – Fine! I've only been trying to help, but if you're going to criticize me this much, then do it yourself!"

Rin chucked the phone at his face, and he was barely able to catch it before it broke his nose. She was stronger than she looked.

"Er... now it's broken."

"I thought you were good at fixing things."

This time, he chose to keep his mouth shut. After repairing the hinge, he went over to the church's announcement board, got Kirei's number, and made the call.

"_Please leave a message at the tone -"_

Nope. Wherever the priest was, it certainly wasn't here.

"Tohsaka-san, he's not – waugh!"

As he turned around, he abruptly found himself face-to-face with the pigtailed magus. He had the sneaking suspicion that she'd been looking over his shoulder and watching him operate the phone the entire time.

"Wha -"

Rin was just as surprised as he was, though she chose to react in a slightly different manner.

_Thump_

As he cradled his stomach, Shirou made a mental note to himself.

_Tohsaka Rin: Good with magic, bad with technology, gutpunches when startled._

"Y-you idiot! You should have warned me that you were going to turn around!"

He really couldn't respond to that. The fact that she had knocked the air out of him didn't help.

"It's not my fault. You brought this on yourself. How was I supposed to know that you weren't about to attack me?"

He could think of all kinds of reasons why that wasn't likely, but her flushed face proved that she wasn't really being serious about that. He hoped.

Although Rin said that she was only helping him because she owed him for stopping Saber, Shirou really didn't want to fight her. Besides the fact that he didn't stand a chance against her and Archer in a real fight, she was a good person at heart, even if she tried to project a cold demeanor to everyone – including herself.

Speaking of Archer, where was he?

"Rin. I searched the Church grounds, but I couldn't find a trace of – am I interrupting something?"

Both of them answered at the same time.

"Not at all."

"Gah... no."

Archer looked at them both, then sighed.

"Honestly. If you two are going to have a _spat,_ then have it outside. At least you'll have some adult supervision that way."

As Rin started to tear into her laughing Servant, Shirou silently thanked God that there was someone here who had even less of a self-preservation instinct than he did.

* * *

_**Rin**_

They headed back to their homes in silence. Rin walked alone, fuming. Saber kept her distance out of wariness, while an astralized Archer and a contemplative Shirou kept their distance out of what she hoped was fear.

_Stupid, lousy, moronic - _

She was angry, and she didn't really want to admit who she was angry with. Sure, Shirou was insensitive, Archer was a jerk, and Saber was... well, the most composed person among the four of them right now, which irritated her for that reason alone.

Mostly, though, she was angry with herself.

_As much as I hate to admit it, Shirou has a point._

It was more than just being "always graceful". Grace was a by-product, not an end in and of itself. A true magus was always in control, planning several steps ahead and making adjustments when the unexpected happened. Even in the face of extreme danger, a magus projected an air of dignity and calm at all times, surviving - no, _thriving_ - in situations that would break lesser men. The fact that elegance resulted from this competence was just a bonus.

It was an uncompromising lifestyle: show any weakness in that armor, and her enemies would exploit that opening to the fullest. She certainly wouldn't begrudge them for that: that was the nature of combat, and she would do the same thing if her opponent showed any crack in their defense.

At least, that's what she told herself.

But as she had discovered this night, her armor was weak. Fake. A single arrow broke that facade and left her writhing on the ground, helpless and incapable of thought. Her mind, the weapon that she prided herself on and honed every day, had failed her completely, and if it weren't for Archer's quick actions she probably would have died there, delirious and thinking about... _tea_, of all things.

She hated that feeling.

She had tried to retaliate, but instead found herself saving the life of a boy who shouldn't have been there. The _same_ boy that, through some strange accident of fate, she had found herself at the mercy of later in the night. Once again, she'd been caught completely off guard and lost control of the situation, only surviving because of Shirou's aversion to seeing people get hurt.

She hated that, too.

That's probably why she exploded at him back in the church. Her pride had been cracked too many times, and she felt exposed. Vulnerable. To hide it, she tried to dominate the situation, attempting to do everything to show Shirou (and, she figured, herself) who was _really_ in control. She knew better than anyone that she was hopeless with technology, but she wouldn't let herself show any weakness to a Master and potential enemy. Of course, that defensiveness made her look like a complete idiot, and while punching Shirou was certainly cathartic, adding _another_ injury to his constantly-growing list was not the kind of repayment she had in mind when she said she owed him for his kindness.

_Focus, Rin. _

She breathed meditatively, calming herself. Yes, she'd been in a bad place earlier, but she wasn't going to let that affect her anymore.

Actually, it was a good thing that this had happened so early in the war. She'd had a taste of what it was like to be impotent, and while she had failed that particular test, the experience ensured something like that would never happen again. Now that she knew helplessness, knew pain, she was confident that she could figure out a way to press on in spite of it.

Yes, she'd been broken, but it would be for last time.

Rin looked back at Shirou, who was talking with his Servant. He seemed harmless, but he was still the Master of Saber, the strongest Servant. However, he didn't have a real reason for fighting and seemed to trust her implicitly, mistaking her actions towards him for genuine altruism.

He was, in short, an ideal target.

She didn't want to kill him – he was a fool, not a criminal – but if it came down to that, she wouldn't hesitate. Ideally, though, she would be able to defeat him without lifting a finger. If she could convince him to opt out of this War and give Saber to her, she would be strengthening her own position while protecting Shirou from his own good nature. Prana might be an issue, but between her own high levels and her jewels, she was sure that she could work something out.

_Archer._

He was beside her in a flash.

_Yes?_

_I've thought of a way to deal with Shirou. Listen closely, and tell me if there's anything I'm missing._

She explained her plan to him, all the while scanning her surroundings. She wouldn't be caught off-guard again.

* * *

_**Shirou**_

"Uh, Tohsaka-san?"

The girl in front of him paused for a second, looking at him quizzically.

"What is it?"

He glanced at Saber, who nodded assent.

"I... shouldn't have teased you earlier. I'm sorry."

And he was. After discussing what had happened in the church with Saber (and realizing that he was extremely lucky his Servant wasn't watching when he got punched), he realized that...

"I was kind of a jerk back in the church. You're a good person, and I hope you don't think any lesser of me now."

Thinking back, he was surprised by how strongly Rin had reacted, but he kept that to himself. Making fun of her when she was doing so much to help him _was_ incredibly ungrateful, and he would need all the help he could get to survive this war intact. Saber had been exceedingly clear on that last point.

For her part, Rin looked slightly startled.

"Well, that was... unexpected. Still, apology accepted. You _were_ a jerk, but at least you're enough of a man to admit that you were in the wrong... though I suspect Saber had something to do with that."

She crossed her arms.

"As for thinking lesser of you, well, my opinion of your capabilities wasn't that high to begin with, so no harm done."

Ouch. While he figured he had something like that coming, it was still pretty harsh.

"Don't get the wrong idea, Shirou-kun. I'm _not_ a good person. The only reason I'm helping you right now is because I owe you for sparing my life. The next time we meet as Masters, we'll be enemies."

She kept saying that, but for some reason he still felt that it wasn't entirely sincere.

"Still, I'd be annoyed if you died early on, since it would mean that my work tonight was just wasted effort. You're not a bad person, just sort of a clueless, incompetent moron. Besides, thanks to a certain useless priest, you're not _actually_ a Master yet."

Okay, some insults he could live with, but this was almost too much. He still had his pride, after all.

_For someone who strives to be elegant, she's remarkably vindictive._

"So, what do you say? Would you be willing to let me stay at your place before you go back to the Church, to make sure that you're actually prepared?"

… what?

"What?"

He stared at her, confused, and she averted her gaze.

"H-hey, don't look at me like that! I was just thinking that you would need some protection since you're such an easy target right now. I'm still the Second Owner of this city, and I'd feel responsible if anything happened to you because you were too powerless to prevent it."

That statement was distinctly at odds with the one about "being enemies" she had made earlier, and it only confirmed his suspicions.

"... I knew it. You really _are_ a good person, aren't you?"

Something else he was learning: it was actually pretty easy to make Rin blush.

"Wha – That has nothing to do with anything! Do you want my help or not?!"

"Of course."

He almost couldn't believe it. In a night full of unpleasant surprises, something good had finally happened to him. Maybe his luck was starting to take a turn for the better.

_Whump_

"What's this? Making friends already, onii-chan? Too bad she won't be of much help in the end."

Or maybe not.

* * *

_**Caster**_

_[meissner's plexuses innervate the small intestine [11.43 by 23. 9 by 19. 7.62 by 51. 18.53 by 60.] and are responsible for causing the [alle kinder setzen sich] smooth muscle contractions that mo[ ]ve and break up food particles as they move through [Ehwaz. Ehwaz. Ehwaz. [ansuz!]Ehwaz. Ehwaz. Ehwaz. Ehwaz.] the gastrointestinal]_

She was drowning, submerged in a sea of sensation that would drive a normal person insane. She figured that that had happened to her long ago.

_[be thy Name. Thy Kingdom come. Thy will be done in earth, as it is in [STICK A FLOWER IN YOUR EYE, LOAD YOUR GUN AND HOPE TO DIE] heaven. Give us this day [For the night/Shows stars and women in a better light] our daily bread, and forgive us our [La terrorista conocido como "La Coralilla" ha atacado a un gobierno] trespasses, as we for ["- get it now. Of course, why didn't I see it before?"]give them that trespass against us. And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from[AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA AAAAAAAAAA]]_

Pain. It was all pain. It was all she had ever known, and because of that, it was now the only place where she could find a bit of solace.

_[Fragmentation: Reproductive – A form of cloning, asexual reproduction. Biological – The process [the soul maps onto the mind maps onto the body maps [FUCK YOU DIRTY RED] onto the mind maps onto the soul maps]of breaking apart cells into their constituent organelles. C[ogito ergo sum? don't make me laugh]hemical – The process of breaking[it hurts. it hurts so much. make it hurt more] apart a molecule, used in mass spectrometry to determine a molecule's chemical formula [what is the measure of a man? his weight?]and aid in identification [funny that we call ourselves a "canticle" due to its connections with]. Computing (memory storage) – The inefficient use of storage space, resulting in decreased performance. Sociological – A lack of [To bear the weight of the world on our shoulders.]connections between a society and its peripheral population groups. Weaponry – The main mechanism by which explosive weaponry maim or kill [them all. what have they ever done for you, anyway? might as well t]. Relies on] _

There was comfort in the familiar. There were no surprises, and you knew exactly what was going to happen.

_["Here's another question. Would you be able to forgive me if I became a bad person?"_

"_What...? No. I'd get mad if you do something bad. I'd get more mad than anybody else."_

"_... I'm glad. I'd want you to do that."]_

_[iii b: thought i'd find you here.]_

That was faster than usual.

_go away._

_[iii b: if you've started to adopt their speech patterns, then you're in worse shape then i realized.]_

_I SAID GO AWAY!_

_[iii b: not happening.]_

It was too soon. She wanted to spend more time in here.

_[iii b: time is exactly what you don't have. you're just lucky that spek was out there saving your corporeal ass, else you'd have all the time in the world, and i wouldn't have to bother with this.]_

_[iii b: because, you know, you'd be dead.]_

_What if that's what I __**want**__?_

_[iii b: oh, please. if you had wanted to die, you would've just let yourself dissolve the moment you saw his face. no, all you want to do is wallow in your own misery, and that's _my _job.]_

That was the problem with arguing with yourself. At the end of it all, you still lost.

_[iii b: come on. when has losing ever stopped you? i thought you prided yourself on not giving up, borrowed though that trait may be.]_

_[iii b: besides. everyone should die for something, even if it's for someone else's dream. if you stop now, then what was the point of all the death we caused?]_

_Stop trying to guilt-trip me._

_[iii b: it's the only way you'll _listen_. pain and familiarity and all that.]_

_Fuck you._

_[iii b: trust me. i remember more about self-stimulation than you'd be comfortable with.]_

Knowing iii b, that was probably true.

_[iii b: we both know you're not finished yet. yes, you failed to keep Shirou out of the war, but you can still protect him to the best of your ability. god knows he's going to need it.]_

_[iii b: if you don't stop feeling sorry for yourself _now_, you might just let something happen to him that you _really _wouldn't forgive yourself for.]_

_[iii b: could you live with that?]_

Caster sighed.

_No, I couldn't._

Taking that as an affirmation, subpartition iii b reestablished its connection to the Core and began pulling her out of the darker part of her mind. Staying here any longer wouldn't benefit her anymore, and there was still a lot to be done. It's not like things ever worked out the way they were supposed to for her, anyways.

_Um, iii b?_

_[iii b: yeah?]_

… _thanks._

_[iii b: stop thanking yourself. you have a boy to save.]_

* * *

_**Saber**_

_**RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!**_

"Master, get away from here! NOW!"

Rin's gambit had failed. Ilya was still alive, and Berserker hadn't been damaged by Archer's shot at all. The only change that she could detect was that the madman was even _stronger_ now.

It was as if he had been holding back before. Not a pleasant thought.

_**Smash**_

Though her instincts were honed to a razor's edge, she was barely able to avoid Berserker's wild swings.

_**Crunch**_

Blocking those attacks would be difficult, if the craters in the road were any indication. She could do it, but not for long.

"Dammit, _listen_ to your Servant, Shirou!"

There was the sound of feet on pavement, followed by the haughty voice of the Einzbern Master.

"Who said you could run away? BERSERKER!"

The giant charged, axe raised. He intended to plow through her and attack the two fleeing magi behind her. All her instincts were telling her to dodge, but for the sake of her Master and his new ally, she would stand her ground.

_**CLANG**_

"Nnngh-!"

Even when prana bursting at full capacity, it was all she could do to not be smashed into the ground by Berserker's downward chop.

_**CLANG**_

She blocked his follow-up attack as well, but force behind it caused her to slide erratically to the side.

_No-!_

_**CLANG**_

_**SNRKT**_

Her footing had been poor for that last block, and though she had tried to compensate by over-bursting her arms slightly, it wasn't enough. Thankfully, her spine was still intact, and she could still stand by bracing herself with her sword.

Berserker tensed for the final blow, and Saber hoped that she had bought enough time for Shirou and Rin to escape. She would get another chance to live and fight, but they would not.

It was when she closed her eyes and prepared for the end that she heard familiar footsteps coming towards her.

"_SABER!"_

Her eyes flew open as she whirled around. Shirou was running _towards her_, the fool.

"Master-?!"

He pushed her out of the way.

_**SPLURK**_

* * *

_**Caster**_

It seems that Spek had transferred her to the spare body while she was feeling sorry for herself. She turned on her new eyes.

_**SPLURK**_

Berserker's axe tore into Shirou.

…

…

…

It was at that moment that iii b's words echoed in her mind, unbidden.

_If you don't stop feeling sorry for yourself __**now,**_ _you might just let something happen to him that you __**really**_ _wouldn't forgive yourself for._

…

…

…

_Spektrum._

_:: _…

_SPEKTRUM!_

_:: Wh - yes?_

_Deploy all _Lichts_. Every single fucking one._

_:: R-roger._

_III A._

_[III A: Here.]_

_Reconnect all combat-oriented magic circuit batteries._

_[III A: Reconnecting magic circuit batteries now.]_

She was going to feel that later. Right now, she couldn't care less.

_Twob. Combat configuration: all out._

_[Twob: Oh hell yes.]_

He wasn't dead. If he could survive _her_, then he could certainly survive that. Granted, she hadn't been fighting at full strength when she had mistakenly tried to kill him, but that was mainly because she had no real reason to.

She did now.

_:: All 343 _Lichts _ready and waiting._

There wasn't time for grief anymore. No time for doubt, either. Further self-hatred and angst could wait.

She had a boy to save.

* * *

...

...

...

...

...

...

...

_**Kirei**_

"Took you long enough, you useless –"

Before the man could finish his sentence, Kirei casually sliced his arm off.

"AAAAAAUGH! WHAT THE _HELL_ ARE YOU DOING?!"

The doomed Master fell to the ground.

"ASSASSIN! HELP – "

The plea died in his throat when he did. His head rolled into the hallway, eyes still wide with terror.

Occupied as he was by the Command Spell transfer, Kirei didn't notice the being that had materialized in front of him.

"He was useless, anyways."

Kirei looked up. This Assassin was not the one he had summoned during his own War. No, this one seemed _normal_, looking like an ordinary Japanese man with his casual clothing and messy black hair. The only odd thing about him was the white bandage wrapped around his eyes.

"He always complained about getting the wrong Servant, but he wouldn't let me out of his sight. Bastard even forbade me from going outside to have a look."

There was something about the way he said that last bit that piqued Kirei's curiosity.

"Are you looking for anything in particular?"

"A woman. I suspect that she was summoned into this… farce of a war. Don't suppose you've seen her? Wears a weird-looking cloak, goes by the name 'Prism'?"

This Assassin was being remarkably frank with the man who had just murdered his Master. He genuinely didn't seem to care about anything apart from finding this person.

"I'm afraid I haven't. Why?"

Assassin's tone sharpened.

"I'm here to erase her. Completely."

Kirei smiled.

"Perhaps we can reach an agreement, then."


End file.
